


The Final Act of Mercy

by ptw30



Series: Blood Brothers [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Keith, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bromances in Space, Eventually everyone will show up, Families of Choice, Found Family, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Shiro has PTSD, Shiro's Missing Year, The Lions Take a Liking to Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 74,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8621365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: Set after Season One, Episode 11: Shiro and Keith are hunted on an abandoned desert planet by the Galra Empire, and when the Druid who fought Keith on the infamous "space base" joins the attack, he gives Shiro the greatest gift - or the greatest curse - his memories from his time as a prisoner.





	1. Bits and Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story of three bromances – Keith and Shiro, Shiro and Sendak, and Matt and Shiro. It’s a lot sappier than I intended. I meant to keep this as close to the canon as possible and failed in some areas, definitely making Shiro and Keith closer than they probably are/will be shown in the series. But at some point, I decided not to care and went with it cuz they wanted to be bros.
> 
> Having said that – there are some minor deviations from the series but nothing substantial. Mainly, if there is a leeway for interpretation, I took it (and then a tiny bit more).
> 
> Edit 1/21/17: Now this is officially AU, and season two was so awesome. :)

_Post Zarkon Command System Attack_

Black’s furious roar resounded in the back of Shiro’s mind, and he thought, perhaps, he might have heard the insolent rumblings of Red, too. But he couldn’t acknowledge them now, not when he and Keith had more pressing matters than the rebellious attitudes of legendary robotic lions with whom they happened to share a mystical bond. 

“This is insane,” Keith huffed, arm tightly wrapped about Shiro’s torso as they navigated the cactus forest of the desert planet. “How does the Galra know where we are _all_ the time?” 

Shiro fought for breath, shaking terribly with a dry cough. The hot, dry air choked Shiro’s already aching lungs, and he tightened his hold upon Keith’s shoulder as they made their way about the rocky surface. His side burned something fierce and unnatural. 

“I don’t know,” he managed to huff, “but the more distance we put between us and them, the better.”

Keith grumbled his agreement, resituated his hold upon Shiro’s side, and continued to lead them further and further about the prickly trees and towards the rocky canyon ahead. 

This perhaps wasn’t the best plan Shiro ever contrived, but they had limited choices after they crash-landed on this seemingly empty planet. Thankfully, Black and Red ended up close to each other, but Red was too damaged from the fight with Zarkon and Black still hadn’t recovered completely after the hostile take-over. 

Shiro hadn’t either, his wound from Haggar glowing an otherworldly purple and more intensively with each passing moment. Though Coran equipped each lion with the usual medical supplies, Shiro held little hope that normal techniques could heal a side torn by pure quintessence. 

With each step, Shiro felt weaker, like his own soul was leaking out of the wound, and he could almost embrace the arguably welcome black void of nothingness – if not for Keith. When his little brother saw the wound, he kneed at Shiro’s side in Black’s cockpit to get a closer look and then met Shiro’s gaze with such raw emotion that Shiro rejected the sweet kiss of death. He forged ahead, one arm wrapped about his brother’s shoulders and another pressing against his heated wound – as if that did anything to keep his life force inside. 

Somehow, though, the Galra found them. They’d barely left the lions before a black and violet battle cruiser entered the planet’s atmosphere, and a landing party hunted them. Keith and he decided to lead the hunters away from their injured lions – much to Black and Red’s dismay – but they weren’t fast enough. Keith might have a fighting chance if Shiro was strong enough to hold off the advancing forces. 

As another explosion thundered behind them, the flashbacks came, one after another – Sendak bleeding, arguing, telling him to leave, then the desert canyon – on the other side, Haxus, waiting for them to arrive – but Shiro had to make it through the gauntlet with the help of a large and now very familiar big red cat. 

The cactus forest grew thinner, offering less cover, while the canyon ahead reached high into the sky like the mountain ranges that dominating the New Mexican landscape. Darks twists and turns led toward points unknown, and the deserted path reminded Shiro of the trails he and Keith used to race speeders on. It hurt him to think of their time on Earth – they were so young, so innocent – and he missed that time. 

They passed by large fallen boulders that appeared as if they’d been blasted through, and Shiro asked Keith to help him rest behind one of the larger rocks. Then, he placed his hand at his thigh, producing a purple and black blaster that was unmistakably Galra. 

“Never leave a Galra battleship without one,” he teased. 

Keith’s fists clenched and unclenched as he glowered back toward the advancing forces. The hunters weren’t quite upon them yet, but by the noise and lights from beyond the crater’s edge, the paladins knew the Galra weren’t far behind.

“I – I know you’re hurt, and I’m – I’m sorry, Shiro. But we have to go. We need to keep –”

Shiro sighed and reached a hand for Keith to take, which he did. Shiro tugged him close, tucking the younger paladin under his chin one last time before pressing a gentle kiss to Keith’s ruffled black strands. “You’re going to leave me here, Keith.”

“What!” Keith jerked away, horror and other terrible emotions flashing through his gaze. “I’m not letting you give up, Shiro.”

Shiro heard what Keith really said. _I lost you for a year. I’m not losing you again._

Shiro switched to Korean, and the sound of Keith’s first Earth tongue conveyed the severity of his message. “Keith, you’re going on ahead. You need to take care of the lions and get in contact with the others. If we’re both captured, we’ll have no chance of escaping.”

Keith switched to Japanese, causing Shiro to chuckle. “And you think I’m just going to let you get re-captured? You’re the Black Paladin! What if Zarkon decides to – to –” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, and Shiro couldn’t bring himself to make Keith. 

Shiro squeezed Keith’s hand and spoke in Japanese, too. “Then it happens, Keith. Then you’ll take care of the team and the lions. Black already adores you, and Allura can then take care of Red.” 

“No!” 

A pulse of energy surged from just beyond the canyon’s opening, too close for comfort, and Keith once more clasped Shiro’s armor, mindful of his wound. Shiro responded by snatching Keith’s wrist and jerking it unnaturally. “Listen to me. There is a series of caves up ahead. Hide in there until they give up the search, then double back around to wait with Black and Red for Allura. She should be able to find the lions again.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Keith affirmed, face set in a belligerent scowl. 

Shiro let out a frustrated huff and leaned back, catching the frightened look in Keith’s eyes. He wasn’t scared about fighting the Galra or being captured. He feared losing Shiro, so Shiro would be ruthless in order to save his own soul – and his little brother. He would do anything for Keith. 

“Keith, they won’t kill me –”

“You don’t know that!”

Shiro sucked in a bracing breath, to speak the truth he didn’t even want to acknowledge. “Keith, listen to me. I worked for them. For the Galra. During my year away from Earth. I was one of them.”

A searing, acute pain stabbed Shiro right in his heart when he saw the look of utter betrayal in Keith’s eyes, but then it fled, chased away by the loyalty Keith held for Shiro. And Shiro would always love him for that. 

“I don’t believe you,” Keith challenged. “You’re just trying to get me to leave you –”

Shiro wished he was. “I-I did, Keith. I worked closely with Sendak. That’s why he didn’t kill me when he invaded the castle. I-I think – ”

Keith still refused to believe it. “Black wouldn’t have chosen you if – ”

Another zap of lightning; an explosion tore through the cactus forest, sweeping heated gusts of burning air through the canyon. 

Shiro swung toward Keith, sweat dribbling down his flushed face. “I don’t know why Black chose me, but I remembered – I remembered working with Sendak, fighting with him here, Keith, on this very planet. I’m one of them, and – ”

“Shut up!” Keith rejected, crouching low to seize Shiro’s human hand. “I don’t care what the hell you _think_ you remember. I’m not leaving you!”

Shiro squeezed his eyes shut until stars sparkled behind the lids, the terror rising within him. He couldn’t allow Keith to go through what he did – maybe even worse, since he was now a Red Paladin – and he brushed Keith’s now wet cheek with his Galra hand. It burned a venomous purple, eerily matching Keith’s violet eyes. 

A sinister voice whispered in Shiro’s ears, _It was mercy, my last act of it before I became a member of the Galra Empire._

Loathing himself beyond anything he’d ever known, Shiro ordered in a haunted whisper, “Go. Now.”

The threat hung in the air, widening Keith’s eyes with a terrified mix of emotions that cut Shiro to the quick. Keith would fear him forever, would hate him forever – but he’d be alive, and Shiro could live with himself, for however short of a time that would be. 

But Keith wouldn’t grant him this one mercy. Instead, he gripped the hand over his cheek, and his face grew fierce, his eyes determined and glassy, chasing away the fear. 

“You’re _my_ brother. They can’t have you.”

In the back of Shiro’s mind, he heard Black rumble in agreement while Red let out a growled admission, furious that Shiro had threatened her paladin. 

Tears prickled in the creases of Shiro’s eyes, and the purple of his hand darkened until it was one more the black and white of his uniform. He pulled Keith close, pressing a forceful kiss to Keith’s slick forehead, then held them together. 

“I don’t deserve you.”

Keith seemed taken back, unsure of how to process that, and the already red tinge of his cheeks intensified. Shiro just laughed, indulgent and jovial, despite the situation. Keith would never know just how much he meant to Shiro, how he was perhaps the one guiding force that had kept Shiro alive during his months of imprisonment. Without Keith, he surely would have died in the gladiator arena. 

As he leaned back, a flare of pain shot up his side, and Shiro let out a hiss, hand falling to his burning wound. 

“Shiro!” 

Another explosion blew through the canyon, sending rocks tumbling about them. Shiro jerked Keith forward just in time to save him from a boulder, which slammed into the ground right where the Red Paladin had stood. 

“We need to keep going,” Keith urged, voice heightened, short of panicked, but Shiro agreed. If Keith wouldn’t leave him, then he needed to get going – they both did. So he wrapped an arm about Keith’s shoulders and gnashed his teeth as Keith helped him to his feet, the pain threatening to drag him to his knees. But he needed to keep going – if not for himself, then for Keith – 

In a puff of black smoke, a Druid in black and maroon robes with a white mask appeared in front of them, blocking their escape. He reminded Shiro more of a magician than a fighter, which he supposed was the purpose, but instead of weaving any spells, the Druid cocked his head to the side as if surveying them like pitiful specimens. 

Keith tensed against Shiro, and in a flash of red, he gripped his sword, holding it in front of Shiro and himself like an impenetrable barrier. He wouldn’t allow Shiro to be taken from him again. 

“I didn’t realize you liked our fight so much, you wanted a rematch.”

Keith had met his guy before – Shiro swallowed a gasp. This must have been the Druid Keith fought at the Galra “space base.” 

Shiro activated his Galra fist, trying his best to force away the pain that pulsated in his side, but a Galra shout, fierce and commanding, echoed behind them. Both Keith and Shiro glanced back for a moment, just long enough to give the Druid time to attack. 

Shiro spun to see the Druid disappear and then reappear right in front of them. Reacting instinctively, Shiro pushed Keith to the side as the Druid sizzled purple lightning where the Red Paladin had stood. Shiro punched, then jerked when the Druid seized him by the wrist, and the purple lightning danced upon his Galra hand, searing pain straight up his arm. Though he’d never had a heart attack, Shiro surmised it must have been what one would feel like. 

“Shiro!” Keith shouted, and out of the corner of his eyes, Shiro saw his brother’s desperate expression. 

The Druid never even glanced toward him, only put out his opposite hand, sending purple lightning crackling toward the Red Paladin.

Shiro bit into the side of his mouth, bracing himself for the pain that was to follow, and flicked his leg out to catch the Druid’s knees. It simply popped out of sight again, letting Shiro suck in deep, cleansing breaths, and he quickly swung toward Keith. The younger paladin slowly sat up, blinking with crimson trickling down the side of his head. 

And he was furry. And purple. With yellow eyes that blinked in confusion and worry. 

Shiro let out a relived sigh, but then twin black gloves seized him from behind, thumbs pressing against his cheekbones, just under his eyes. Keith was on his feet in an instant, screaming for the Druid to release his brother, and a surge of purple lightning – quintessence – roared through Shiro’s body like a cold flame. From his arms, through his torso, and down to his toes, Shiro felt the liquid fire race through his veins, and embers flowed from his eyes and through the wound. Black’s desperate roar resounded throughout the canyon. 

He could get out one single word, grunted and commanding, hand pressed out to Keith, “RUN!”

When the darkness came, he fought against it, but instead of the usual abyss, Shiro gasped as the memories he’d forgotten replayed before his eyes. 

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Saranghae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a few more notes on Chapter One, now that the story is completely written. :) A little bit of what's coming up. 
> 
> Also, all translations are from Google, so my apologies for any mistakes.

_Post-Kerberos_

Shiro heard Black’s roar for the first time in a darkened cell. Already outfitted for the gladiator arena, he huddled close to Matt in a corner away from the larger prisoners. Everything at the time seemed so “alien” – a pun Matt had used time and time again, trying to find humor in their horrendous situation.

Shiro put on a weak smile and a fake laugh, but morale was low during those first few days. Matt had been separated from his father and Shiro from his commanding officer. The guards informed them that they would be battling in a barbaric arena like slaves in ancient Rome, and fear radiated so deep in Shiro that he eventually became numb. 

He’d use whatever training he received at the garrison, and perhaps it would be enough. Perhaps he somehow would find a way to survive the unexpected hell that was the Galra Empire, but if the rather formidable prisoners in their shared cell were any indication, Matt and he didn’t have much of a fighting chance. 

He dismissed the thought immediately. Somewhere, Keith and Katie were being told their brothers were missing, and he’d be damned if he became yet another person that left Keith behind. He promised he’d come home, and he would. 

In one of the few times they took turns sleeping, Shiro stayed awake, elbows upon his knees, watching the other prisoners dose as well. It must have been night – though it was difficult to tell in the cell – but clamoring outside the door caught his attention. 

Apparently, Lord Zarkon came to watch the games.

His ship had docked at the station, and he was coming aboard. A few of the sentries were excited to finally see the emperor himself. Apparently, it had been quite some time since Zarkon came to this sector of the universe – a millennium or two at least – so this was quite a treat. 

Shiro could only be underwhelmed, though he was more than curious about the emperor of the Galra. Was he purple-furred like some of the sentries, had sharp fangs and a muscular build? How powerful was he to impress all these people into his ranks? 

Actually, none of that mattered. The only things Shiro wanted to know was, just who the hell was this Zarkon, and what did he want with him and the Holts?

The energy built first – innocuous and palpable, almost like the way the air was charged and excited before a thunderstorm. Shiro held his breath then let out a short exhale, like he was lifting weights. Still, the air thickened until he thought it might choke him – and then, in the very recesses of his mind, Shiro heard _him._ There wasn’t a name attached to the presence – only a feeling, a reassurance that he wasn’t alone in the universe. Even all the way out here, someone waited for him, wanted to help him. 

He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening – or even if he was awake – until a fierce and terrifying roar echoed through the silent cell. 

Shiro shot up, hand gasping the wall behind him, heart thundering in his chest as he glanced about, eyes flicking across the cell from prisoner to prisoner. No one else seemed to hear the lion’s – how did Shiro know it was a lion? – aggressive beckon. Only Matt blinked up at Shiro with a tired but questioning gaze. 

“Hm…? Everything okay, Shiro?”

It took a few moments for Shiro to process the new, almost gentle purring in the back of his mind, which accompanied a warm tether that attached to his soul. Shiro couldn’t help but wonder where the lion was. And why did Shiro feel the need to scratch under its chin?

Eventually, he slid down the wall to lay his elbows upon his knees and mutter, “I’m…fine. Just must be hearing things.”

The lion’s soft noises remained in the back of Shiro’s mind, a new sensation he couldn’t quite explain, and he found himself scared not of the wild beast’s quasi-reassurance but of his odd acceptance of it. This new being felt like a part of him. Before, he never quite knew what it was like to be whole, but now that he was, he wasn’t sure how he ever lived without this other being, this animal. 

As he fought the first gladiator – Myzax – he heard the lion’s growls every time the monster hit him, and huffs of encouragement helped him to time his strikes perfectly. After he finally put down Myzax, the lion purred, soft and contented, like it praised Shiro for his survival. 

Shiro was glad one of them was. He threw away the sword, hand trembling at the thought of what he’d done, trembling at the thought of what he might become. 

A flash of purple light caught his attention, and Shiro glanced up at the stands, seeing an imposing figure at the top. The silver and purple being sat on the largest, most elaborate throne, which was drizzled in some mystical purple lightning that ebbed and flowed with power. Zarkon was impossibly tall, unbelievably powerful. Shiro could feel the awesome energy radiating from his being. It rolled through the stands and washed over Shiro. It applied an invisible pressure upon his shoulders, trying to force him to his knees. 

But Shiro wouldn’t, couldn’t – not when the enchanting purple light on the emperor’s hip stole his rapt attention. It brightened and shone with a fierce but serene presence. And it was frustrated, like a prowling lion who couldn’t escape his cage. 

Shiro found he couldn’t look away as the scathing growls grew louder in his mind, and then pain shot through Shiro like crackling lightning. He jerked and howled before the darkness consumed him. 

When he woke up later in a private cell, sans Matt and the lion’s presence, Shiro mourned the loss of the other half of his soul. He almost wept with relief when the lion’s warm presence returned a few battles later, and he reveled in the sudden rush of warmth and affection. 

When Zarkon wasn’t in audience, then the lion went silent, leaving Shiro feeling bereft, and he began fighting harder, winning quicker, to give Zarkon a reason to return to the arena. That way, Shiro could meet with his lion, like today. 

The deafening roar of the crowd rang Shiro’s ears, drowning out his lion. Ragged breaths exploded from his mouth. Exhaustion gripped his limbs, making him slow to react and slower to attack. He’d managed to survive this far – six months and not one defeat – but he’d lost so much in that time. His dignity. His pride. His hope. It felt, at times, like the only part of him that remained constant was the lion he’d never met but only felt. 

As “Champion,” he fought almost every other day as spectators and commanders alike watched his matches. He battled. He bled. He _hurt._ When he refused to kill, they punished him severely until the open wounds – both physical and mental – refused to heal. He barely managed to stand in the sand-covered arena now after being knocked down by his current competitor – a lizard type being with purple, leathery skin, burning orange eyes, and three hands too many. Perhaps the only reason he remained standing was by sheer will – to return to his brother – and the reassurance the lion gave him.

The Galra armed the lizard with as many weapons as he had hands, but Shiro only had the one sword. Apparently, all was fair in the gladiator arena, and though Shiro avoided the first blow, the second and third slammed into his abdomen in rapid succession. He flung backwards, his back crashing into the unforgiving ground, and blood immediately pooled in his mouth. He lay in the granules of sand, face up as the lizard leered over him, and Shiro took a deep, calming breath. 

The lion growled, angered and loathsome at the vicious competitor who harmed Shiro, but Shiro himself couldn’t bring himself to care. What did it matter? Better to end it now – one final blow, a momentary agony to end the torturous affair he had endured and would continue to if he fought back. And though he didn’t talk to many of the other prisoners – solitary confinement did that to a winning gladiator – he’d heard some prisoners had been confined for decades. A few had even been born in the cells, and with the Galra having ruled for more than ten thousand years, what chance did Shiro have of escaping, let alone stopping the Galra from spreading to Earth? 

Or perhaps his entire, meaningless life led up to this – to die in some sick tournament that served as entertainment for a vile alien race?

His lion – as he began to call it – barely roared loud enough for Shiro to acknowledge, but something entered his hearing, a familiar yet irritated voice. 

“Get up, Shiro.”

Shiro’s eyes squeezed shut, shocked to hear the urgent tone in the usual exasperated voice. 

“Get up.”

Keith. Even after six months away, he remembered the sound of his little brother’s voice, that frustrated tone that spoke so many insecurities. He hoped to never forget it, to hold onto it when the battles grew too long and his body too tired. 

Keith had understood but couldn’t cope with Shiro going all the way to Kerberos. He’d feared this very moment – where Shiro wouldn’t return – and Shiro let out a bitter sigh. Keith had no one else. Having grown up alone, he didn’t know how to make lasting bonds, and Shiro had barely pierced Keith’s unwavering barriers, the ones he kept raised at all times so he couldn’t be hurt, so he wouldn’t lose anyone ever again. 

Like now. If Shiro never returned, what would happen to Keith? Would he be able to move on? Somehow, Shiro couldn’t imagine his little brother going to classes and continuing with life like nothing had happened, but perhaps that was just what Keith would do – except without anyone there to give him that extra slice of bacon at Sunday breakfast.

Keith was a survivor, but he needed someone. Everyone needed family, and Keith’s was Shiro. And Shiro’s was Keith 

“Get up, Shiro,” Keith’s exasperated voice huffed in his ear. “You promised.”

So Shiro did. He couldn’t break his promise to Keith, and when the monster lunged, ready to deliver the death blow, Shiro snagged one of its many wrists, twisted ruthlessly, and then used its own momentum to flip the beast onto its back. With one decisive blow, the creature’s arms fell limp, his eyes rolling back into his skull. 

The crowd’s blaring roars broke through Shiro’s haze, overwhelming him. His hand shook; blood dribbled down his chin and onto the hard sand. The spectators wanted more than just the crimson from his wounds. They wanted blood; they craved death. This was what the arena had turned them into after years of imprisonment – monsters. 

He refused to partake in such cruel endeavors. Perhaps because the mystical lion in his mind purred with approval. Perhaps because Shiro had a soul, and it was kept safe in the hands of a seventeen-year-old punk lightyears away. 

He wasn’t exactly sure, but it allowed him to remain strong. Shiro tossed away his sword, ignoring the resounding jeers, and wiped the blood from the mouth with the back of his hand. His breathing slowly began to return to normal – but it quickened when he saw the occupied thrones raised high above the packed bleachers. Zarkon occupied the middle throne, his yellow eyes glowing and narrowing in thought, as if he scrutinized Shiro’s very soul and found him unworthy. To his left sat the witch, Haggar, her elegant fingers threaded before her chin, while a warrior in commander garb sat on Zarkon’s right. 

Shiro had seen him quite a few times during the games, watching, devising, smirking. 

The doors to the arena screeched open, the large gates allowing the drones to enter along with the Wrangler, as the “man” was known. He was a large, old cat almost double Shiro’s height and weight, with a scar over his left eye and patches of fur singed from what Shiro assumed were his battles in the arena. He reminded Shiro of Commander Iverson from the Galaxy Garrison, though this cat was more severe with an apathetic disposition and a dead look in his only functioning eye. 

Wearing thick, padded gloves, Wrangler held a metal shock rod used to curb farm animals on Earth, and when he came close to Shiro, he huffed and shook his head. “You’re going to make me use this again.” 

It wasn’t a question, and the cat wasn’t remorseful. He simply stated fact. 

He said nothing else, and Shiro squeezed his eyes, readying himself for a blow that came seconds later, signaled by the high-pitched zap of electricity. It was corporal punishment of the most brutal kind, the electricity setting all Shiro’s nerves ablaze, and his knees gave out almost instantly from the crippling pain. And it continued, intensified. 

The lion helped him endure, purring in the back of his mind, trying to soothe Shiro as the electricity slowly began to uncurl his tightly coiled hold on his sanity – if one who heard mystical lions could be deemed sane. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t take any longer, the electricity eased, and he collapsed against the ground, sucking in gasps of air. His eyes fluttered, and his muscles felt limp and heavy, still twitching from the overload. 

“Do it,” Wrangler urged. “Finish him.”

Shiro gulped down another breath, unable to formulate the words, and he squeezed closed his eyes again. The electricity snapped in the air, and his nerves burned until his body gave out. The darkness that followed him was a welcome escape. 

*^*^*  
_Pre-Kerberos_

Shiro’s thigh had long gone numb, and though it was an uncomfortable and rather new sensation, he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. 

Keith managed to catch the latest bug going around the base, and since Shiro, himself, was immune to just about any illness, he offered Keith his sweatshirt, a blanket, and that right side cushion before serving up soup and crackers. Then he put on the first of many movies they binge-watched when either of them were ill, and Shiro hunkered down for what he believed to be an uneventful Saturday afternoon. 

But it was just the opposite. After almost two years, Keith finally uncoiled himself from the right couch cushion and came to lay his pillow – and subsequently his head – against Shiro’s knee. Shiro tried not make any sudden movements, afraid he might scare off his newly acquired cuddly cat, and waited a few moments before trailing his fingers lightly through Keith’s hair. A soft purr was his reward, and he continued the affectionate ministrations through two movies, one numb thigh, and quite a few adorable ear twitches. 

When Keith finally awoke nearly four hours later, he blinked suddenly, then yawned – the motion reminded Shiro of a kitten waking from a nap – before turning to Shiro with an uncertain gaze. 

Shiro continued ruffling the hair just behind Keith’s unusually large ears and smiled a tender grin he would never be able to cover. “Sleep well?”

Keith shrugged. His nose twitched, and he sneezed rather violently, covering his mouth with his hands. 

His furry, purple hands. 

Horror flashed through those pupil-less yellow eyes, and Shiro reached for Keith’s wrist, keeping him close. “Don’t panic. I’m glad you showed me.”

But of course, Keith panicked, and he obviously hadn’t meant to show Shiro anything. He gripped Shiro’s own wrist to try to break the hold and instead slashed Shiro’s vulnerable flesh. Pain immediately welled in the area, along with a great deal of blood, as Keith’s purple face blanched with horror and then anguish, before he saw his opening and took it. 

But Shiro wouldn’t lose the only family he’d ever known. “ _Don’t go…_ ,” he hissed, gripping his hurt appendage. “It’s okay. Really. I’ve always wanted a cat.”

Keith’s hand rested upon the door knob leading to the hallway, and he looked younger than his fifteen years with Shiro’s overly large sweatshirt and frightened yellow eyes. He turned halfway around, like he feared what expression he might see on Shiro’s face, but checked nonetheless. 

He was only met with a pained half-smile. 

“You – You’re not scared?” he asked. 

Shiro stood, albeit with a wince, and managed a smile. “Of course not. I just graduated from a space exploration program. You didn’t think I wanted to meet aliens?”

Keith immediately shifted, his eyes growing darker while his skin grew lighter, until he once more wore the facade of a human. “I’ve never—I’ve never even shifted in front of another person before.”

“I figured by your reaction,” Shiro grinned again, approaching at a very slow pace, so as not to spook Keith again. “That means you must trust me to do so, even if you are ill.”

Keith fidgeted with the edge of Shiro’s hoodie, as if not sure how to proceed, and then Shiro reached out, snatching Keith’s hand and holding it in his own. “I’m honored, Keith, that you would let me see the real you. Would you – Would you mind shifting again?” 

Keith studied Shiro with a rather apprehensive gaze, but then his skin darkened again and his eyes brightened, and there stood Keith, looking very much like a purple cat. Shiro couldn’t help himself. He lifted his hands to Keith’s twitching ears and scratched right behind them. Keith’s eyes grew hazy in an instant, and he leaned into the motions, letting out a rather delighted purr. 

He immediately clamped up and jerked out of Shiro’s reach. “You did that on purpose.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m really not,” Shiro laughed, lifting his hand again to Keith’s ear. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve always wanted a cat.”

Keith slapped his hand away. “I’m not your damned pet!”

“Of course not, but you’re not just my brother anymore. You’re my furry little brother, who I have the right to tease.”

Keith immediately crossed his arms and leaned against the front door, shifting back into his human form. “You’re such an ass.” 

“Maybe, but I’m an ass who is going to make you more soup. So go get comfy on the couch, all right? I’ll bring you something in a few minutes.”

Hesitation greeted Shiro, even after he clasped Keith on the shoulder, but eventually the younger cadet made his way back to the couch, plopped into his corner, and drew his legs up to his chest. Shiro sighed to himself – so much for progress – and retreated to the kitchen to clean and dress his wound before starting the light dinner. 

Over the breakfast bar, Shiro watched Keith the entire time, afraid his younger brother would leave the moment his back turned. But Keith seemed tentatively content, long sleeves covering his hands, hood over his head. 

When Shiro returned, Keith offered an absent nod of thanks, nibbled on some crackers, and watched the movie until finally – “Your arm all right?”

Shiro tried not to wince when he jerked his wrist. “Just a scratch.”

Keith huffed, unimpressed by the pun. “It doesn’t bother you at all?”

 _My fur. My eyes. My true self._

Shiro didn’t have to force the easy smile. “Kiddo, purple happens to be my favorite color.”

They sat in what Shiro perceived to be comfortable silence for a long moment before a huffed voice murmured, “I guess you want to know why I’m here and not…”

“…out there?” Shiro supplemented, effortless and kind. “Nope. I’m just glad you are.”

Keith fell quiet again, prompting Shiro to keep glancing over. He feared the moment he looked away, his little brother would disappear, and Shiro would never be able to find him. 

But halfway through their second movie, Keith rubbed his head against Shiro’s knee like a true cat. A few moments later, he found a comfortable position and fell asleep once more. 

A half an hour later, Shiro feared his leg might fall off, but he’d much rather worry about that than his hot-headed, purple-haired little brother running away. And Keith really was adorable, again shifting into his furry form when completely relaxed. 

*^*^*

_Post-Kerberos_

The low hum of a cruiser’s engines slowly lured Shiro out of his restless sleep, and the pain returned as a lingering ache in his very bones, making his muscles feel stiff and rigid. Tilting his head back, he let out a dull groan – and froze. A pleasantly soft pillow cradled his head where only his hands and a tattered scrap of cloth had done so for the last few months. 

“You are a fool.” 

Shiro’s eyes snapped open at the sudden address, and he sat up rapidly, legs flinging over the edge of the bed. Heavy metal cuffs cut into his wrists, and a heavy chain led back to the bedframe. After giving the chain an experimental tug – yeah, it wouldn’t give – he glared at the owner of the condescending yet refined voice. 

Shiro tensed at the sight of the large mauve cat sitting in a chair in the corner of the small room, a tumbler of some Galra drink in his hand. His glowing yellow eyes studied Shiro like a scientist would a specimen – curious and aloof, looking only for empirical knowledge. Shiro recognized him immediately as the military officer who sat on Zarkon’s right during the games, even without the cat’s usual red and black armor. Instead, the commander wore a simple black shirt and cargo pants, along with dark boots. He seemed uncomfortably alert, back straight as he observed Shiro with a cocked head.

“You should have killed that warrior in the arena,” he scolded with cold fact. “How do you know he won’t come back to kill you?”

Shiro balled his fists and tested the chain again. It clanked and held firm, adding to his eternal frustration. “I don’t think many people have the chance for revenge here, what with the large population of drones and constant restraints.”

“You still shouldn’t allow the opportunity for such an attack to exist.”

“As opposed to the attacks that I do know are coming in the arena?” Shiro scoffed and plopped down upon the soft mattress, enjoying the cradling cushion even as he glared at the military officer. “Does it really matter if I’m attacked in or out of arena? Everything is a fight in the Galra Empire.”

“It will do you well to remember that.” The officer took a sip of his drink, hard eyes never leaving Shiro. “The Galra Empire has been around for more than ten thousand years. It has conquered and destroyed whole systems. It devours weaklings and uses what little strength they have to fuel its desires, but the strong – they are broken and re-forged by the raw power of quintessence and Zarkon’s will.”

Shiro managed to snort, despite his quivering insides. “Should I be impressed?” 

He imagined the momentary smirk that twisted up the officer’s lips. “You should take it as a compliment. I am Sendak, high commander of the Galra Empire and second only to Zarkon and the Witch Haggar. You have been given to me by his majesty to weaponize for the glory of the empire.”

Shiro’s body flushed numb as a cold sweat rose upon his skin. His shirt felt unnaturally tight, the collar rising as if to choke him, and he grasped onto the last shred of sanity he somehow managed to save throughout the torturous months. “Yeah, no. As tempting as that sounds, I think I’d rather try my hands in the arena, thanks.”

“I don’t believe you understand the severity of the situation.”

“No, I understood the first time a sword tore through my shoulder. I don’t think you realize how much I really don’t want to help you.”

Now all the humor disappeared from Sendak’s face, and he finished his drink in one swallow. “Allow me to clarify, _prisoner._ The games are the empire’s way of cultivating our greatest warriors. Those who survive are strengthened and either assimilated into the empire or killed.”

“I’ll take option three, thanks.”

“There is no other options.”

The chains clinked ominously in the silent room as Shiro shifted to pin Sendak with an unflinching glare. “I will return to my home planet.” _And one day, all of this will be a distant nightmare._

Sendak laughed, actually howled, until Shiro shifted, hands drawn back into fists. 

“Oh, I’m sure you will see your home world again – Earth, it is called? Zarkon is the ruler of the known universe. He will eventually conquer your worthless planet.”

“No,” Shiro growled. _Keith._ “I won’t let that happen.”

“And what can you possibly do?”

Shiro stood, eyes hardening to glare down at the thoroughly amused Sendak. “I don’t know how, but I will stop him.”

Shiro wouldn’t let what happened to him, happen to anyone else on Earth. To Keith. He wouldn’t allow such an evil to touch his little brother again. 

That vile smirk returned full force on Sendak’s lips, and Shiro barely blinked before Sendak was out of his chair and charging. He managed to duck the commander’s first fist, but the chains kept him ruthlessly within Sendak’s reach. The sequent blow he blocked with his cuffs, but the third slammed into his gut, sending him doubling over. A large, clawed paw snatched his throat before lifting him off the ground, causing Shiro to struggle for air. His feet sought the stability of the ground but stopped moving once spots formed in front of his eyes. Lightheadedness seized his thoughts and muddied them as a sharp ache slid from his jaw down his neck and across his shoulders. 

Just before the welcome darkness consumed Shiro, Sendak pulled him close, the fur of his nose brushing against Shiro’s cheek in what the former captain thought was a sniff. He took a longer, prolonged inhale, as if committing the scent to memory, before he finally released Shiro’s neck. Shiro pummeted to the ground and immediately rolled over, hacking ragged coughs. 

Sendak’s tone lowered to scold. “I was hoping for more of a fight from the Champion. It appears I have my work cut out for me – as do you. Do better tomorrow, or I will end your miserable existence before you have a chance to achieve greatness.” 

When Sendak strode toward the door, Shiro struggled to stand. “I – _wheeze_ – won’t work for you.”

“As I said before, you have no choice.” Sendak stopped in the doorway to address Shiro with that devious smile again. “Besides, how do you propose to beat Zarkon if you can’t even land a punch against me?”

Shiro internally winced.

“If you have any will to live, then you will not care why I am training you to survive in the Galra Empire, only that I am,” Sendak continued, hand pressing against a side panel to open the door. “Think about why you haven’t surrendered in the arena and bring that motivation with you to the training deck tomorrow. You will need it.”

He left, sparing Shiro once last, pitiful glance, and Shiro collapsed onto the floor, back pressed against the bed. After he wiped his flushed face and sucked in deep breaths, he tipped head back against the impossibly soft luxury that was his new mattress. 

He closed his eyes, calming his thundering heart, and in the silence of his newest quarters, he allowed himself to drift into the past, to remember exactly why he was there. 

Keith had only said it once – at the garrison’s prepping quarters before Shiro left to finish final procedures for the launch. 

Keith wouldn’t look him in the eyes until Shiro bent and physically smiled up at his younger brother from under that curtain of bangs, and then he noticed Keith’s flushed cheeks and glistening eyes. 

“ _Saranghae._ ” _I love you._

Keith spoke in his native tongue of Korean to demonstrate the severity of his words and the depth of his feeling. 

Shiro stood there, struck dumb by the confession, and then beamed. Later, he wondered if Keith had ever told anyone else that, if that had been the first time Keith ever admitted to feeling affection for another, but at that moment, Shiro just drew the boy close to him, folding his arms across his brother’s shoulders, and burying his face in Keith’s soft strands. 

“ _Nado saranghae._ ” _I love you, too._

That simple memory steeled Shiro’s resolve. He dropped his forehead to his knees and let out of deflating sigh. It didn’t matter why Sendak mentored him. As long as Shiro survived, he could work toward returning home. As long as he returned to his little brother, he could endure. He would endure. 

Sendak was right, the bastard. Shiro didn’t have a choice. 

_To Be Continued..._


	3. Potential - and How It Can Lead to Becoming a Galra Commander

_Pre-Kerberos_

" – and I have never, in my thirty-five years at the garrison, ever had a cadet who so poorly completed a cargo mission. You transport from point A to point B. That’s it!"

Shiro watched from the top deck of the simulator room as the young cadet winced but quickly recovered, his face smoothing into a suave mask of bravado. "But there was a distress signal, and it's every soldier’s duty to give help where needed."

"And you were not needed. A trained rescue crew was on its way, and the stranded craft did not need the ‘assistance’ of a wayward cargo pilot without any true talent for flying!"

The cadet grimaced again and this time remained silent.

"You should be grateful I don't just expel you for sheer incompetence!" Iverson loomed over the cadet, stopping only mere inches from his face to hiss, "Do better."

To the rest of the cadets, he yelled, "Class dismissed.”

Lacing up his boot and finishing preparations for his simulator session, Shiro saw the cadets salute and leisurely take off toward their next class or for some free time. He managed to find Keith easily. His little brother had a way of sticking out in a group, even with his usual black hair and light complexion, but Shiro paused when Keith stopped in front of the publicly humiliated cargo pilot who had yet to move. 

They exchanged words, Keith’s hands motioning as if trying to convey something about flying, but he obviously wasn’t getting through because a few moments later, the cadet screamed, “Well, maybe some of us have lives, okay? You ever think of that – girls, movies, fun!”

Keith muttered something back, too low for Shiro to hear, and then he stormed off, leaving the cargo pilot alone. Shiro grabbed his helmet and gloves and headed down to the main deck, where he wasn't at all surprised to see the cargo pilot had yet to move. The boy looked utterly defeated with hitched breaths and glistening eyes, staring the data pad where the commander’s remarks were posted. 

Shiro couldn't help himself. "Don't let Commander Iverson get to you. He just wants cadets to be safe when in space, and showing off can lead to unnecessary accidents."

"But I wasn't showing off," the kid challenged, dropping the data pad to a nearby bench. “I was just trying to help the stranded crew.”

“Who were safe and awaiting a different transport,” Shiro offered with the kind reproach of an instructor. “Unlike you, who ended up taking out your landing gear and then crashing unceremoniously.”

The kid began gathering his things as Shiro went to the data-entry port and inputted his settings. 

“Look, I get it, okay?” The kid huffed. “I think I’ve been told more than enough times _today_ how much I suck at this.”

“You don’t suck at it. You just have to practice, which yes, may cut into your times with girls and movies.”

“Great, now you’re starting to sound like Mullet-Head.”

Mullet-Head? 

“He’s so intense and – whoa.” Shiro turned from the doorway of the simulator to see the cadet with sapphire eyes and a tan complexion staring at him with a shocked and rather dismayed expression. Hm. 

“You okay, kid?”

“You’re – You’re Takashi Shirogane!”

Shiro forced a cordial smile and drawled, “Yes?”

“But – But you’re, like, the best pilot ever!” Then he added, as if talking to himself, “Captain Shirogane is talking to me!”

“And you are…?” 

Lance immediately snapped to attention, posture perfect, voice toned with respect, “Cadet Lance McCain, sir. Cargo pilot class.”

“Call me Shiro,” Shiro offered, waving off Lance’s salute and putting out a hand. “And I doubt you came to the garrison to be a cargo pilot.”

Lance blinked. “What makes you say that?”

“Because no one wants to be a cargo pilot,” Shiro laughed and clasped Lance on the shoulder warmly. “Everyone wants to a fighter pilot or a head scientist on these missions. And you’re still young. Pilot classes aren’t set until your penultimate year. Work hard. Maybe listen a little to your peers, and practice. You’ll make it.”

Lance followed when Shiro retreated to the opening of the simulator. “How do you know?”

Shiro shot a glance at him, taking in all Lance’s attributes – his curious nature, his kind disposition, his overall stance. He was confident and cocky, but skilled, too, and willing to listen. All known characteristics of great pilots. 

“No matter what they tell you in flight school, pilots have a certain…way about them. You can tell sometimes just by one simulation if someone has what it takes to be a fighter pilot, and Commander Iverson wouldn’t get on you if he thought you weren’t good, Lance. He knows you can do better. So next time, show him you can.”

Lance blinked, and his face immediately brightened. “Wow. Thanks, Shiro.”

“No problem. It was nice to meet you, Lance. Good luck, and if you ever need some extra help, let me know.”

Lance beamed before heading off toward the locker rooms, but as the door opened to let him exit, Keith came busting in, dressed for a simulator lesson with his helmet tucked under his arm. Keith and Lance traded scathing glares, sizing each other up, before Lance stormed out. Shiro didn’t miss the second glance Keith sent Lance – or the way his eyes dipped lower. 

Shiro approved. Lance seemed like a decent kid, and if he would listen to Keith, then maybe he could make it to fighter class. And if Keith listened to Lance, maybe the kid would loosen up a little. 

Still, that didn’t mean Shiro couldn’t tease his little brother about it. “So…you and Lance, huh?”

Keith rolled his eyes as he ducked his head to enter the simulator. “The annoying cargo pilot? What about him?’

Shiro shut the simulator’s doors and started checking the systems. “He’s pretty cute.”

Keith froze in the pilot’s chair, then shrugged. “I…guess…? I never really noticed.”

“Really? Is that why you stopped and tried to give him instructions? Y’know there are better ways to woo someone than lecturing.”

“Woo? Who uses the word woo?” Keith’s voice cracked, though he quickly cleared it. “Oh, right. I keep forgetting how ancient you are.”

“Hey, watch it. I might decide to stop scheduling these extra hours for you and let you do as poorly as the rest of your class.”

“And I might decide not to get you a second helping on mac and cheese days.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I’ll decide to start tutoring Lance. I bet he’d like my pointers…Mullet-Head – uk!”

The simulator roared to life, and Shiro had the air forced out of him when he slammed hard into the back of the ship. Keith laughed and refused to let Shiro get to his seat through the first half of the simulation, continuing to hit the thrusters every time he stood. 

_Post-Kerberos_

Shiro became a light sleeper during his time in the prison cells, sometimes going days without sleeping a wink depending upon agonized screams of the injured, the pitiful moans of the dying, and the putrid scent of the dead. Here in his new cell – it was hard to relax, not that he ever did in his last one – but this one was quieter with the low hum of the engines and the clinking sound of his chains. The bed, too, though unbearably soft and undeniably comfortable, wasn’t relaxing in the least after so many days lying on a hard metal floor with only one blanket as a cover _and_ a pillow. 

Instead, he lay awake most of the night, back aching without the necessary support, and he surveyed the minimalist décor – a chair in the corner of the room he couldn’t reach and the bed with only a hook for his chains. A pitcher sat on a small metal footstool, and though it held water, he’d like something more potent.

He could, thankfully, reach the small bathroom just off the bed, which held the necessary amenities his bodily functions demanded – shower, toilet, sink. But he was unable to get undressed, thanks to the chains, and unable to step inside the shower stall. Instead, he did his business and then sat down on the bed and waited. And waited. And waited some more for tomorrow to come. He wasn’t even sure if Sendak would start his training in the morning or maybe in the afternoon…? Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t like Shiro was going anywhere. 

Sighing, he wondered what time it was and closed his eyes one last time, his body relaxing and sleep finally reaching for him. 

The door to the room let out a high-pitched beep and slid open, jerking Shiro awake. In one swift motion, he flicked his legs over the side of the bed and stood, getting into a fighting stance. Twin drones and a Galra soldier, leaner than Sendak and dressed in a dark gray suit, entered, disdain evident in his venomous yellow eyes. 

Shiro thought they looked like bile but kept that little comment to himself, especially when the soldier dropped a pair of black cargo pants and boots, along with a dark shirt with the red symbol of the Galra Empire, directly on the floor before him. The drones aimed their weapons as the solider spat, “Lift your wrists, prisoner.”

Shiro followed the orders, and the soldier pressed his thumb upon the metal center between the two cuffs. They clinked off, much to Shiro’s relief, though he didn’t allow himself to dwell upon his “freedom.” 

“Get dressed and follow me,” the soldier ordered. 

Shiro let out a tiny sigh and bent down to collect the new outfit without a word. Motion caught his attention, and he stopped the soldier’s boot just before it connected with his face. With a violent twist, Shiro brought the soldier to the ground. A warning shot sizzled past Shiro’s arm, and from the floor, the soldier laughed before he kicked, thrusting Shiro against his bedframe. 

“You might want to conserve your energy. Commander Sendak likes to break his new recruits.”

“Don’t you mean ‘break in’?” 

“No,” the soldier laughed. 

_Great._

Once he was dressed, Shiro wasn’t re-chained like he anticipated, though the drones kept their blasters leveled at him. Despite his initial impulse to battle the drones until he wrangled away one of the blasters and shot the other – and if necessary, the soldier – he played the role of good prisoner, keeping his hands at this sides and following the soldier through the dimly lit hallways of the battle cruiser. Fourteen steps right, twenty steps right again, fifty steps left – he made a map of the ship in his mind. 

Unfortunately, other than the hallways and numerous doors, he saw nothing that could help him escape, like the hanger, though when he walked onto the training deck, he made note of the generous number of weapons along the closest wall – swords, blasters, bo staffs. But fighting off two drones, a soldier, and now Sendak, who worked up a sweat with fast, deliberate movements of his bo staff, would have been impossible. 

Instead, Shiro watched, mystified like a young cadet, as Sendak went through the motions, dressed in a simple black tanktop that showcased his thick muscles and loose workout pants that led to bare claws. Back on Earth, the senior officers and cadets used to meet on Sundays to go through drills in the base gym, and Shiro watched every week, marveled by the consummate skills eight years in the garrison produced. Then, he – and eventually Keith – joined the practices, and Keith excelled those mornings, soaking up every ounce of training his elders bestowed upon him. 

Shiro felt like that now, and when he glanced back at the Galra soldier to see if he should proceed, he heard a wild cry. He swung about just in time to see Sendak’s staff aimed at his head and dove into a forward roll, avoiding the blow and finding his feet. But Sendak’s moves were fluid, natural, and Shiro had to back-flip to avoid another blow, then another and another. When he landed less than five feet from the far wall, he grabbed the nearest weapon – a sword – and parried Sendak’s staff. 

The commander leered over the crossed weapons. “Good. You’re better prepared today.”

Perhaps he should have stretched, but that was moot now as Sendak thrust with his increased strength, slamming Shiro against the wall. Shiro grunted, using all his strength, yet Sendak’s bo staff inches closer and closer to Shiro’s chest. 

Sendak snorted, an ill-elegant sound. “You are still not worthy. Such a pity. I had high hopes for the Champion.”

Shiro snarled, the deep purple of Sendak’s fur reminding him of Keith’s eyes and how they lightened against the firepit at the cabin, and he loosened his grip on his sword while simultaneously jerking to the left, pinning Sendak’s staff against the wall. Then he lifted his knee to Sendak’s midsection, but the commander deflected the attack. He dropped his own weapon, and Shiro took that moment to attack, kicking, punching, hitting Sendak with everything he learned at the garrison. 

And still, it wasn’t enough. 

Sendak blocked his attacks easily, fluidly, before delivering a rounding kick to Shiro’s stomach. The incredible force – more than any of Shiro’s commanders in the garrison and still more than any of his enemies in the arena ever had – sent him soaring backwards, and he slammed hard against the ground, his already sore back radiating with acute pain. 

A shadow fell across Shiro, and Sendak loomed, his claws out to pierce – and like so many times in the arena, his heart thundered in his chest. He wondered if this was the moment where his string of luck would end and he’d finally lose the seemingly endless fight. The Champion surely couldn’t go undefeated forever, could he? 

But then the world slowed. Shiro’s breathing evened, and a palpable energy swept across his heated skin, soothing his frayed nerves. He opened his mouth, unsure of what would come out of it, but he heard, deep in the back of his mind, the feral roar of a lion. A male lion, in fact, the head of his pride and furious that one of his own had been attacked. 

The other half of his soul returned. 

Shiro reacted on a visceral level, slamming his boot heels together to catch Sendak and use the commander’s own momentum to flip him. 

But Sendak snatched Shiro’s wrist, and he tugged Shiro along with him until Shiro found himself up-ended and pounded into the ground, Sendak’s ruthless claws poised just under his chin. The sharp point dipped into Shiro’s skin, forcing him to bare the pale expanse of his neck to Sendak like when a wounded animal surrendered to a vicious predator 

And the lion hated it, his fierce roar dampening to an intense growl that remained resolute in the back of Shiro’s mind. It seemed to only quiet since Shiro was now at Sendak’s mercy. 

The commander laughed, his thighs pinioning Shiro’s arms against his body as he leaned over his prisoner to leer. His hot breath washed over Shiro’s face, and his sinister smile only grew when Shiro winced. 

“You have promise,” Sendak purred, sending a terrible shiver down Shiro’s spine. “Once I have broken you, you will make a great warrior for the Galra Empire.”

“Sir,” the soldier from earlier called across the floor, and though held Shiro in a rather intimate hold, Sendak seemed neither embarrassed nor surprised by the soldier’s beckon. 

“Report, Haxus,” he called, not at all out of breath. Damnit. 

“Sir, we are at Central Command. Lord Zarkon requests an audience.”

“Then I shall not keep him waiting. Ready my armor.”

“Yes, Commander.” 

It became much easier to breathe without a large mauve cat sitting on his chest, and Shiro heaved in long, drawing breaths. Sendak accepted a towel from the Galra solider and wiped his face, and after a disdainful glare in his direction, the soldier – Haxus – left the room with a silent huff. 

Sendak walked over to Shiro and glared down at him – then abruptly crouched, pressing the towel against Shiro’s neck, against the fresh wound. “That was Haxus. He is my second-in-commander aboard this ship. You are not to listen to him except for the most basic orders.”

Shiro blinked. He could not have heard that right and said so. 

The commander laughed. “He is rather foolhardy, but he is loyal and resilient, qualities I value highly.”

One of those qualities Shiro would never afford Sendak, and the lion in his mind purred in agreement. But it was odd, surreal, that a commander in the Galra Empire saw to his wounds – even if it was a wound he created – and addressed him almost as an equal, if not an acquaintance. The Galra were ruthless, cruel, and vile creatures, and yet here, one of its highest military officers took _care_ of Shiro.

Sendak wiped the remaining blood from Shiro’s neck before meeting his dissecting gaze. “The Druids assured me you do not have any metaphysical powers, so allow me to assure you – you cannot kill me with your mind.”

A pity, for sure. “If you plan on breaking me, then you might want to try harder. Cleaning my wounds and giving me a comfortable bed won’t do it.”

“I learned years ago that I get more from my subordinates when I provide slack in the leash, but make no mistake – ” The sharp edge to Sendak’s voice punctuated his threat as his claws scraped along Shiro’s collar. “ – I will not hesitate to put you down.”

Shiro held no doubts about that. 

Sendak stood then and tossed the bloodied towel onto Shiro’s lap. “We will meet once in the morning and once in the evening, and whenever else I deem. You will be required to train during other times in all aspects of hand-to-hand combat and weaponry, as well as aspects of our military command. Haxus will provide you with the necessary materials.”

None of this made sense. “Why are you doing this? I already told you I won’t work for you.”

“Despite what you have said, you still came here on your own volition, ready to do battle.” The duel drones that had escorted him from his room might have said differently. “You have reason to survive, and you will not allow death to conquer you.” 

“Or the Galra Empire,” Shiro affirmed. 

Sendak headed toward the exit, dropping his staff by the weapon wall. “Your will is commendable, but it will not last. The Galra Empire will not relent until it finds your weakness and uses it to destroy your very being. Then, it will re-forge you in its ruthless claws and make you into its most vile weapon, which it will use again and again to gut the innocence of the universe.” 

Fear throbbed in an uneasy rhythm in Shiro’s heart, and the lion let out a low growl that sounded suspiciously like a whimper. 

And while Shiro’s entrails certainly trembled, he only said, “Is that what happened to you?”

Sendak refused to answer, but Shiro expected his silence. Perhaps even the highest ranking commander under Lord Zarkon, himself, was a prisoner, and if so – what chance did Shrio have of escaping?

Sighing, Shiro hardened his resolve – he was different from Sendak. The Galra Empire might have captured him, but he wouldn’t allow it to defeat him. He would escape its painful clutches and return to Earth, to his brother. 

But first, he needed to become strong enough to fight and break away the Galra, and if that meant learning how to fight from Sendak, then so be it. 

The lion inside of him purred with delight, with approval, and Shiro relished in its warmth, even as he fell to a nearby bench and started to wrap his hands. He stopped abruptly, hand gripping the front of his shirt as he sucked in ragged, wet breaths. 

The thick energy of the room built until it stifled Shiro, and joining his brave, proud, worrisome lion was a second voice, a second roar, this one rawer, more vicious, more cunning. And female. 

But what drained his fight and dried his mouth was the lion’s– no, lioness’s – presence. It was like touching fire. 

It was like speaking directly to Keith’s soul. 

_To Be Continued..._


	4. Champion(s)

_Pre-Kerberos_

“…eh, uh, Keith?”

“Hmm…?”

“I missed you, too, but what are you doing?”

Keith froze against Shiro’s back, his cheek still pressed against Shiro’s uniform jacket, right between his shoulder blades. He reluctantly pulled away as Shiro turned, eyeing the faint pink twinge that spread across Keith’s cheeks. 

Keith shied away from touching in general. Shiro always chalked it up to his upbringing in a group home in Korea, but that didn’t mean Shiro wouldn’t indulge his own whims now and then. A hair ruffle, a shoulder bump, and once, even a piggyback ride after he found the young cadet passed out from too much training right on the gym floor. 

So for Shiro to return home after a three-day mission to the moon and be all but assaulted by a fond Keith was – well, quite pleasant, actually, but also alarming. Keith just didn’t do affection like most people. 

“You smell…different,” Keith murmured, his voice unsure but his shoulders pressed back in a rebellious stance. “You…don’t smell…like you should.”

“Like I should?” He shed the jacket, causing Keith to crinkle his nose in disdain. “Are you saying I _stink?_ ”

Keith shrugged, obviously uncomfortable, shoulders bunched in his cadet uniform. “You – we – have a distinct scent. You…you don’t smell like it anymore because you’ve been off world.” 

Shiro blinked and lifted up his black undershirt to smell it, then leaned forward to sniff Keith, who recoiled slightly. “Okay, so…maybe I have to take a shower, but –”

“That’s not it.”

Shit. Keith used _that_ tone. Something was wrong, and Shiro needed to fix it before Keith started hissing. 

Wait. Hissing? Oh. _Oh._

Shiro’s mind clawed at the memories of a cat he once rescued on the streets of Yokohama and what she used do, and the realization rocked him. “Keith…did you scent mark me?”

“No!” Keith immediately snapped. “I just…You usually…I –”

Shiro tried so hard not to laugh, but he ultimately failed. Keith looked so uncomfortable, head drooping, eyes adverted, and Shiro could almost imagine Keith’s ears tugged down, like a drowned and thoroughly disgruntled cat. 

“Do I still stink?” Shiro asked. 

Keith had crossed his arms and leaned back, definitely unhappy with Shiro’s question. Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered, “…yes.”

“Then come on, kiddo.” Shiro lifted his arms and flexed his fingers. “Bring it in.”

Keith’s violet eyes flashed, questioning and wondering – was Shiro serious? So the older brother sighed and took a hesitant step forward. Keith immediately took a step back, arms uncurling, mouth opening slightly. Shiro stopped and waited, arms still up, for Keith to relax and be comfortable in his presence. It only took a beat, and Keith surrendered. 

His shoulders remained tight at first as he wrapped his arms around Shiro’s torso and pressed his face into Shiro’s chest, but then he began to move. Keith burrowed his cheek in Shiro’s shirt, tickling Shiro with his quick strokes. His hands just moved up and down Shiro’s back, spreading his unique musk of desert willows, sands, and soap, and Shiro just buried his face in Keith’s mop and let him do as he wished. 

Finally, _finally,_ the tension in Keith’s shoulders melted, and he simply unwound in Shiro’s arms, resting his head against his brother’s chest. 

Shiro chuckled, fond. “Better now, kiddo?”

Keith never sounded so blissful. “Yeah. Welcome home.”

“Good to be home.”

Shiro held off telling Keith he’d been cleared for a longer mission. He couldn’t imagine how Keith would react – or what he’d smell like after nine months in space. 

_Post-Kerberos_

“Just so you know – on my planet, this is what they call a come-on.”

Sendak jerked in mid-motion, hands loosening on Shiro’s wrists. Sendak stood behind Shiro, his larger chest cradling the human’s back, his arms wrapped around Shiro’s as he helped Shiro lift the duel swords in correct position. 

Shiro glanced over his shoulder with a smirk, catching Sendak’s stoic glare before a teasing glint shimmered in his eyes. The cat dropped his hand to Shiro’s head and physically turned it to be forward-facing again. “Hm. You are not my type, Champion.”

Shiro laughed and followed Sendak’s lead, swiping with the sword in perfect form. “I would take offense, but you’re not my type either.” 

“And what would constitute this ‘type’?” 

Shiro shrugged. “I usually go for well-endowed blondes, brunettes, and redheads. My brother says I’ll do about anything that moves, which I’ve learned is not the case since being abducted by the empire.”

“Your brother?”

Shiro froze as a fierce shiver rushed up spine, his skin suddenly cold and uncomfortable. _Shit._

Sendak broke away then, heading to the extensive weapon wall. “So, is it for him that you refuse to surrender to the empire’s devices?”

Shiro’s jaw set; he gripped the sword hilts tighter. He refused to answer. Though he doubted the Galra Empire would traverse thousands – if not millions – of miles to invade Earth just to find his little brother, he wouldn’t give them any information to use against him and potentially put Keith in danger. 

Sendak gripped two escrima sticks as he approached Shiro, standing just out of his reach. “You refuse to talk, which means you want to protect this familial individual. A _younger_ brother, I presume.”

“Don’t,” Shiro warned, raising his swords as an added threat.

“Or you will what?” Sendak sneered. “Kill me? It’s been three weeks, and you have yet to even leave a single bruise. Your brother – is he as talented as you?”

 _More._ “You will not touch him.”

“If he is younger, he’d be more susceptible to the Galra’s control.”

“Don’t you dare – ”

“I bet all I’d need to do is put one of those swords against your neck, and he’d fall right to his knees.”

Shiro breathed in and out, forcing himself not to react, forcing himself not to show Sendak any more of that primal fear that churned in his stomach at the simple thought of Keith being in Galra hands. The empire wouldn’t go to Earth to find one seventeen-year-old boy just to bring Shiro to heel. Shiro was a prisoner – for all intents and purposes, a slave. Sendak wouldn’t go to all that trouble. He wouldn’t. 

Sendak just wanted to rile him up, wanted him to attack carelessly, so he could prove his point – whatever the hell his point was this time. But Shiro wouldn’t take the bait. 

Instead, Shiro closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart, and it was then he felt _her_ again. The lioness. She was different from the first lion, fiercer, more intense. She burned with a passion few could replicate, and she filled him with confidence, with energy for the fight ahead. 

But she was ferocious, angered by something Sendak said. Shiro knew why he was bitter, but why would the lioness be?

He allowed her vicious nature to flood his body, though he forced a crooked smile to his lips. “Y’know, you never said what was your type is. What constitutes a hot…Galran…? Galranite?”

“It is simply Galra, Champion,” Sendak replied, amused. His eyes narrowed in question, but he seemed to take delight in not being able to get a rise from Shiro. Like he was proud that Shiro had managed to keep his mind clear and focus on the task at hand, even though his little brother’s safety was threatened. “But the Galra are not one race. While there are a number of felines in the Galra ranks, there are certainly others who have risen from the arena.”

Shiro blinked, taken back. “So…what are you? Originally?” 

Of course, when Shiro was most relaxed, Sendak chose to strike, lunging with his escrima stick aimed at Shiro’s head. Shiro barely managed to block it with his swords, though Sendak improvised with a switch kick to Shiro’s torso – or perhaps that was his attack plan all along. 

Shiro slammed hard to the ground and rolled away before Sendak could follow through with a stomp. 

“My people have long lost their race,“ Sendak explained, sounding breathless as Shiro attacked with a slash and parried with a thrust. “My planet was conquered long ago –” When he captured both of Shiro’s swords with his sticks, he jerked his elbow up, spreading warmth and pain through Shiro’s face. “ –and my people were impressed into the different sections of the Galra Empire.” Shiro let out a sharp cry when Sendak tossed him as if he weighed nothing, and he landed hard ten feet away. “Those who were strong enough took to the games.”

Lying on his stomach, Shiro groaned and wiped his split lip with the back of his hand. “Wait. Then you –”

But Sendak attacked, like he anticipated Shiro’s question and refused to answer. His moves came with abandon, slashing, kicking, using his body like the weapon it had become under the Galra’s cruel claw. But Shiro matched each attack, faster, quicker, stronger. Determination fueled his moves – and the fire lioness. Her power surged through him, guided him, and he managed to battle Sendak slash for slash. 

Escrima stick to sharp blade – their weapons clashed to a standstill, and Shiro gasped, “—you were a gladiator in the arena.”

Sendak’s dark glower grew more pronounced, sharper. “Yes.” 

“No.” Shiro blinked, realization sickening his already queasy stomach. “You said the games cultivate new weapons for the Galra Empire.” Shiro hardened his resolve and accepted Sendak’s thrusts, keeping their weapons fused together. “You _championed_ the games.”

Sendak dropped both his weapons then and whirled, kicking Shiro in the mid-section. Shiro flew back and with a fierce growl of the lioness, managed to hold onto one of his swords. He flipped upward, combated Sendak’s first strike, then his second, fighting on instinct. Sendak had reclaimed his weapons and used them as an extension of himself, but Shiro had an extension of himself, too. And it wasn’t his sword. 

It was the lions. 

He ducked one of Sendak’s swipes and slashed, cutting Sendak across the waist. Sendak stumbled, and Shiro used the momentary surprise to kick out the commander’s legs. Sendak recovered quickly with a backflip and tossed one of his sticks. 

It knocked the sword from Shiro’s grip, spinning the weapon out of his reach, and as Shiro whirled to combat, Sendak sent him to the ground with a wicked kick. The commander’s massive foot stomped upon Shiro’s neck, cutting off air supply. His lungs burned, and black spots formed in front of his eyes. He scrabbled against Sendak’s leg, trying desperately to escape, but Sendak just bent low to murmur, “Yes. I defeated anyone who stood in my way.”

He lifted his boot then, allowing Shiro to roll over and suck in the precious if stagnant air of the workout room. It smelled bitter with the too sweet rank of musk and sweat, and he ducked his head below his shoulders, resting on all fours as he recovered. 

Sendak’s footsteps sounded lighter as he retreated to the bench for a towel to press against his fresh but shallow wounds. “As I am teaching you to survive in this Galra Empire, Lord Zarkon sought to teach me. I am his most loyal commander.”

The lioness growled, unforgivable and vicious, but Shiro ignored her to rasp, “Sounds like Zarkon just gave his ‘most loyal commander’ the longest leash.”

Unexpectedly, Sendak bellowed an indulgent laugh. “Yes, I suppose it does, but then again, I am the one who holds your leash. It will do you well to remember that.”

Shiro rubbed his neck as he finally gathered enough energy to stand. “So you have freedom – or as much as you can in your position. Why don’t you leave? Just…go. Either home or wherever. You don’t have to work for Zarkon anymore.”

“To what end?” Sendak threw Shiro a clear bottle of water. “I am now Galra.”

“Do you have to be?” Shiro welcomed the lioness’s reassuring purr in his head. “You can go home. You can get out of the empire’s reach and –”

Sendak’s eyes flamed as those large incisors clenched in a wordless threat. “You still do not understand. From the moment you become a member of the Galra Empire, you cease to be who you were. You have a new name and a new purpose. You become something more. You _are_ something more.”

“I am not _Champion._ ”

“The brother you wish to protect and the home you remember are nothing more than memories. Soon, they will not even be that.”

“No.” Shiro scowled. “I will see Keith again. I don’t have a choice.”

Sendak’s eyes widened, just enough to show Shiro he screwed up again, but the commander continued undeterred, “Then you will only see him as we conquer your home planet, and he stares at you with nothing less than unbridled fear. And perhaps then, you will grant him your last act of mercy.” As he headed toward the exit, Sendak added as an afterthought, “Like I did with my own brother.” 

The sudden nausea washed over Shiro, filling him with dread not even the lions could help him stave off, but before Shiro could ask, Sendak stopped before the doors. “You have improved considerably these last few weeks, so I have requested you to join me on my next mission.” 

Shiro glanced toward the weapon wall once more, anger surging through his veins. “I told you before. I will not work for you or the Galra Empire.”

Sendak’s face, ironically, was a glower, not a leer. “I believe I have found something that may change your mind.”

_To Be Continued..._


	5. Commanding Officer

_Pre-Kerberos_

Shiro would be the first to admit – he wasn’t the best big brother-slash-parental figure-slash-confidante, but he tried his best when it came to Keith. He listened when Keith had issues. He welcomed Keith into his apartment on the base, and Shiro even made Keith pancakes when he was out late the night before. 

And Keith rewarded Shiro in small ways he thought Keith didn’t even know. A tender smile reserved only for him, a shoulder bump in the garrison’s corridors, waiting for him after class before heading to the mess hall. Though Keith professed that Shiro wormed his way into his life, Shiro undoubtedly knew it was the other way around – which was why Shiro found himself at a loss for words when he returned from mission training one night to find his apartment empty. 

Keith hadn’t spent a night away from him since Shiro graduated and moved into his new officer digs, and now to find the place cold and empty, Shiro immediately pulled out his phone and began a barrage of texts and calls to Keith. Not one was returned. 

He switched tactics, heading out on a frantic search of the base. Silence greeted him for the most part with the training deck, outside track, and simulators all dark. He texted Matt, who responded that he hadn’t seen Keith, though Shiro held little hope that he would have. Matt had all but become that annoying best friend younger siblings barely tolerated, especially after Matt ruffled Keith’s hair once. The Kerberos tech was lucky to leave with his hand in tact. 

Without any other options, Shiro went straight for his worst-case scenario. 

“So you finally bit the bullet, huh?” Iverson muttered into his bottle as he sat in the mess hall after hours. Many of the officers, commanders, and personnel met once the school day ended, enjoying each other’s company with a cold brew or two. “Hm. Don’t worry, Shirogane. I’m sure he’ll pop up eventually.”

Shiro wasn’t exactly sure how he held back from decking Iverson. “You’re his legal guardian. It’s your responsibility to know where he is _at all times._ How can you possibly take such a cavalier attitude toward his disappearance.”

Iverson shrugged, more interested in his rapidly disappearing beer than his conversation with Shiro. “Kogane may be a troubled kid, but he’s a good one. He’ll be here before classes, and if he’s good enough to get around base security, then that’s something to praise, isn’t it?”

“He’s sixteen!”

Iverson finished his drink with one gulp and slammed the bottle down upon the table. “Last time I checked, weren’t you watching over him, Shirogane? And what? You told him you were selected for the Kerberos mission and he bolted. Do I have the story correct?”

Shiro’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, sir.”

“My advice? Let him be. It’s probably better letting go now than once you’re in space.”

“Sir?” Panic and dread seized Shiro. “I’m sorry, but I don’t quite follow.”

“You’re leaving him, Shirogane.” Iverson lifted the empty bottle to stare longingly at the sud-covered bottom. “Just like everyone else has. Of course he’s going to mourn you, so let him and move on. It’s not like you’re going to let him sleep on your couch forever.”

A wave of nausea rushed up Shiro’s throat, spreading the rotten taste of bile through his mouth, and it only fueled his efforts to find Keith more. If that was what Iverson thought of their relationship, Shiro didn’t want to imagine what other lies people have been telling Keith. 

It took him three agonizing days to finally realize where Keith had gone, and when Shiro spotted Keith’s red speeder in front of the desert shack, his body trembled as it released the wire-strung tension it’d carried since the moment he couldn’t find his brother that first night. 

Keith avoided his eyes when Shiro climbed up onto the roof, but Shiro immediately latched onto Keith’s wrist and tugged him into a smothering hug. Keith reminded stiff and cold through the entire thing, but Shiro refused to release him. Even once he’d blew out a calming sigh, he snatched Keith by the shoulders and held him at arms-length but no further. 

“We’re setting a few ground rules right now.”

“Ground…rules…?” Keith muttered, repeating the words in a slow, wondering voice. “What are –”

“Number one, you’re mad at me? Fine. That’s life. People fight, but you do _not_ ignore me for three days straight. You gotta let me know you’re okay. I don’t care how pissed you are. Got it?”

Keith cocked his head, and if Shiro wasn’t so enraged, he would have commented about how Keith looked like a curious cat, eyes and ears twitching in confusion. “But—why?”

“ _Why?_ ” Shiro exasperated. “Because I care about you, Keith! I called the cops, but Iverson said you’d show up. I have no legal recourse to find you, and you weren’t answering my calls or texts –”

“But…why? You’re not my brother. What does it matter if you can’t find me? And in nine months, it’s not going to matter anyway.”

Despite the undeniable hurt that accompanied Keith’s earlier statement, all Shiro’s anger dispelled by the end. He allowed his hands to loosen, his touch to become more tender and cradling, and he switched to Korean to make sure Keith understood the importance of his words. 

_“Keith, I can’t say that some things won’t change when I leave in nine months, but how I feel about you won’t be one of them.”_

Shiro’s heart ached when Keith flinched, and he allowed his hands to fall from the younger cadet’s shoulders. Keith seemed to draw into himself, legs curled up to his chest, fingers clenching and unclenching in his cut-off gloves. Shiro knew better than to push. Sure, when Keith was being stubborn, he’d annoy the young cadet to know end – poking, prodding, and ruffling his hair until Keith admitted what bothered him. 

But this time Keith wasn’t pissed or annoyed. He seemed more scared and withdrawn, so Shiro resolved to simply sit and wait until Keith explained what was troubling him. It didn’t take long. 

“There’s an evil out there you don’t know,” he murmured, and Shiro thought it might even be a whimper. “It infects everything that is good in the universe and either absorbs it into the empire or destroys it.”

Yep, Shiro wasn’t ready for this conversation just yet, but he tucked Keith under his arm, drawing the shivering teen against his warmth. “Maybe you need some catnip.”

“Shiro, I’m serious!”

“And so am I. I bet you’d feel better with catnip.” But Keith wasn’t impressed, so Shiro fell backwards, tugging Keith along with him until they lay shoulder to shoulder, just staring into the dark abyss that was the night sky. “I would tell you not to worry about me, but I know that’s pointless. So instead, I’m going to tell you something you obviously haven’t realized yet.” His fingertips fluffed the top of Keith’s hair and continued their mindless caresses. “You’re stuck with me, kiddo. I might be gone for a little while, but I’ll come back.”

“But what happens if they find you?” Keith’s worried eyes burned a vibrant and beautiful violet. 

“I doubt I’m going to be of any importance to them,” Shiro laughed.

Keith made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Why you?” _Why do you have to go?_

Letting out a loud sigh, Shiro glanced up at the dark canvass dotted by brilliant stars. “Because there’s something out there, Keith, something brilliant and awesome and beyond my comprehension. And – it’s out there, waiting for me to find it. Does—Does that make sense?”

Keith just burrowed farther into Shiro’s side as the cool desert breeze whipped through the canyon and tussled their hair with gentle affection. The air felt alive, a nondescript energy flowing through it, and he thought Keith understood. He hoped Keith understood, and then, of course –

“So…do I get to make ground rules, too?”

“Sure, but one of them cannot be about me and the towels on the bathroom floor.”

Keith groaned, “But you leave them there all the time!”

“Oh, come on, kiddo. I don’t complain about your furballs.”

_Post-Kerberos_

Shiro’s universe expanded overnight. Continuous reaching the farthest point any human ever ventured, Shiro wasn’t sure where he was most of the time, though he knew it certainly wasn’t the Milky Way Galaxy. But Sendak was a commander, only second to the emperor himself and the head of the Druids, and he ruled his designated sector of the Galra Empire, instilling fear and hatred throughout the system.

So it shouldn’t have surprised Shiro when the battleship docked at a certain base, and Haxus came to get him with two droids and a set of cuffs. Shiro learned not to fight, just accepting the restrains and commands, and he allowed Haxus to lead him through the ships corridors and into the base’s containment cells. 

Shiro mentally laughed to himself. They were going on a field trip.

“I’m tempted to leave you here,” Haxus huffed. “It will be a merciful end to your pathetic existence.”

“You doubt your commander’s ability to change me into a bloodthirsty warrior for the Galra?” 

Haxus barely glanced back at Shiro, unfazed by his taunts. “You lack the ruthless instinct needed to become a member of the Galra Empire. That is of no fault of the commander. It is fact. Your human physiology makes you weak, both physically and mentally, and eventually, Commander Sendak will be forced to release you.”

Shiro sighed, stopping when Haxus placed his hand upon the control panel outside a particular cell. “I’m weak? I heard the Galra Empire grants mercy to no one.”

A flustered Haxus was quite entertaining, even when the Galra soldier muttered, “You may be known as Champion, but everyone faces defeat eventually. I have no doubt your day is coming soon.” 

With that, Haxus unlocked Shiro’s cuffs and tossed him into the darkened cell. The heavy door clanked shut behind Shiro, and he placed his fingertips tentatively upon the cool mental surface for a brief moment, sighing at the impossibility of escaping. He briefly wondered why Haxus brought him here – would he be forced to fight again in the arena? Though it perhaps had only been a few months, it seemed like a lifetime ago since he battled in the arena. His time with Sendak, though grueling and painful, was a reprieve from the endless fighting and constant injuries. 

He didn’t want to go back to that, even though he certainly didn’t want to fight in the Galra’s armed forces. That simple thought sent him tumbling into an endless void of fear and despair, but a wondering and weak voice pulled him back. 

“Takashi?”

Shiro whirled, hope burning a tentative blaze, and then into the dim rays of the single overhead light limped a graying man with narrowed eyes trapped behind broken spectacles, wearing dark, torn rags of an arena gladiator. He appeared to be in a better condition than most warriors, lacking any bruises, broken bones, or mechanical augmentations, though the bags under his eyes and hallowed features spoke of exhaustion, hard labor, and starvation. 

But the man smiled, and it was a generous gift Shiro would always treasure. “Commander Holt!”

Shiro forwent protocol to sweep Commander Holt into an ensconcing hug, engulfing the slightly shorter man in a protective hold, but the commander seemed to relish, even need it as much as Shiro. Holt simply returned the hold and let out a relieved breath.

Tears welled in Shiro’s eyes as his entire body shook, the simple joy of seeing his commander alive and for the most part well, causing him to break down after so many months isolated. He was no longer alone, staring down an unfathomable struggle to simply retain his sanity. Now he was with his trusted advisor, surrogate father, and the smartest man he’d ever met, and the relief choked him with violent sobs. 

“Are you alright, Takashi?” and Shiro heard the tears in the commander’s voice. “Did they – Are you intact?”

Shiro nodded, not trusting his voice, but Commander Holt pulled away from their embrace to take Shiro’s face between his cold, bony fingers and exam it for himself. The commander’s eyes seemed dark, sunken-in rocks where they once sparkled with such wonder and excitement. They remained as sharp as ever, however, taking in all of Shiro’s features and giving his body a once-over. 

“You are still in one piece, son? You weren’t hurt?”

“For the most part, sir,” Shiro admitted. “How is Matt? Did he find you in the mining colony?”

“Find me…?” Holt wondered, eyes now trembling with unbridled fear. “Shiro, I thought he was with you going over strategies once more. Are you telling me he – ”

Strategies? “I injured him on purpose, so he wouldn’t have to fight in the gladiator arena,” Shiro admitted, cursing himself for his impulsive actions. “I thought they would transfer him to the same mining colony they were sending you.”

Holt’s already pale complexion worsened, and Shiro barely caught the commander before he stumbled to the ground. “But he doesn’t know the constellations,” Holt worried, eyes wide, body clamoring with terrible realization. “I thought as long as you boys were together, you’d be alright, but – but if he’s not with you, how will his way back?”

Dread sunk low and heavy in Shiro’s stomach; guilt followed shortly thereafter, forcing the words from his mouth before he could stop them. “I’ll find him, sir. I promise.”

He wasn’t sure how to make good on that, but it was his fault Matt was now lost to the Galra, perhaps even in a worse predicament than either Shiro or Holt could fathom. Shiro would find him and make it right; he had to. 

After helping the commander back down to the room’s only cot, Shiro knelt by his side as the older man dragged his hands down his face. When he pulled them away, he hummed thoughtfully before looking over at the corner expectantly, as if listening. 

“Commander Holt?” Shiro prompted, only for Holt to put up one finger. 

“Just a moment, dear. Takashi’s here, and we need to go over the specs to save Matt.”

A sinking, queasy feeling stirred in Shiro’s belly, and the relief unwound as quickly as it had embraced him. “Commander Holt? …Who are you talking to?”

“My wife,” Holt said, his eyes glassy, irises blown wide, when he turned back to Shiro. “She’s in there making lemonade right now. Have you met Katie yet? She’ll be around later.”

Shiro chose every word with care. “Sir, Katie is safe on Earth. So’s Mrs. Holt. They’re both fine.”

“Yes, yes, but you know how Miriam likes to dote. Now, about Matt.” He focused upon Shiro with a stern and unrelenting glower. “How did you lose him on the base? You know how some of the senior cadets have been cruel to him since he was chosen to go on the mission with us.”

Shiro took a sharp inhale, then another and another. His heart still throbbed in an uneven rhythm as a physical ache tore through his chest. He leaned over, sucking in dry heaves in attempt to curb the tears that already began to fall, and while Shiro fought daily to keep hold of his sanity, Commander Holt already lost his. 

A soft hand ruffled through his hair. “Oh, dear boy, what’s the matter? I’m sure we can find Matt before the others do. He must be around here somewhere…”

Commander Holt was the smartest person Shiro knew – and one of the strongest, and yet the Galra broke him. How could Shiro hope to retain any part of his sanity? How could Matt, who was four years his junior, smaller by far, and a sure feast for the Galra in a multitude of ways? How could any of them hope to survive in this all-too-true depiction of Hell?

The lion – the other half of his soul – returned to his mind with a ferocious roar. The sudden assault knocked Shiro to his backside; his hands slapped the sides of his head to cover his ears. Yet the lion continued to growl, intimidating and discontented. It was not happy for being away from Shiro for so long, and it was even more unhappy with Shiro’s defeatist thoughts. They were two halves of the same being, and when Shiro couldn’t hold on any longer, the lion would. The lion would always be there for him, a single ember of hope in the abyss of the Galra Empire. 

The lioness – the fiery one – echoed the lion’s sentiments, and they roared as one, invigorating him with new hope. His mind cleared of its previous chaotic thoughts, and he wondered what Haxus’s purpose was for bringing him to see Holt. What was he trying to accomplish? No, what was Sendak trying to accomplish?

Shiro sat next to Commander Holt, speaking encouraging words and indulging the older man with a kind tone and a gentle hand upon his shoulder. Eventually, the sentries returned, and Shiro patted Holt’s shoulder. “I’ll find Matt and visit when I can.”

Holt nodded and in a sudden act of clarity, snatched Shiro’s hand. “Be careful. It’s dark, Takashi, and the stars are not our friends.”

Shiro forced a smile, squeezed the man’s hand in one last act of reassurance, and followed the sentries back onto Sendak’s ship and then the bridge. Shiro faltered in step for only a moment, the imposing size of the command deck intimidating Shiro more than he anticipated. The sentries waited at the opening of the room while Shiro walked along the metal bridge connecting the doors to the command platform, where the battleship’s mainframe and viewer screens resided. Instead of waiting on the bottom stair to be acknowledged, Shiro climbed the three steps to stand next to Sendak, who didn’t turn from the massive screens. 

“So that is your hand,” Shiro began, eyes running over the various symbols – Galra’s letters – trying his best to read the foreign language. “With Commander Holt as leverage, you think you can get me to do whatever you want.”

Sendak made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “How is your friend?”

“Alive,” Shiro breathed. “That’s all that matters.”

“Hm. It would to you.” With a swipe of his hand, the viewer screens shifted to show more symbols, this time across the backdrop of a yellow crystalline planet. “He would be better off dead, so others would not be able to use him against you.”

“Your compassion is touching.” When Sendak tossed him an assumed smirk, Shiro refused to return it. “My services don’t come so cheap. I want you to find the other member of my mission.”

Sendak’s eyes narrowed. “The young boy.”

“His name is Matt.”

Turning back to the screen, Sendak spoke as an afterthought, “You say that as if it means something to me.”

“It should,” Shiro insisted, his hands rolling into trembling fists. “Despite what you want to believe, we’re people. You can’t just dismiss us like we’re – ”

“—nothing? You are nothing to the Galra Empire except fodder and entertainment for our forces.” Sendak’s eyes glowed with malevolent intent as he stepped forward to loom over Shiro’s shorter form. “If I were to find the boy, I would send him to the arena. Only if he survived would he be of any use to me.”

“You won’t do that,” Shiro argued, calm and confident. He had the upper hand here, and he would use it to his advantage. “You know the moment you did, my cooperation would end.”

“And then I would kill the old man.”

“Commander Holt is Matt’s father. He would gladly give his life to save his son.”

“And you?” Sendak asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the mainframe. “Would you gladly give your life for them and leave your brother alone back on your home world?”

“You won’t kill me,” Shiro replied, hoping his bravado would hold. “That would mean you’ve failed in your mission, and you would never fail Lord Zarkon.”

Sendak’s unwavering glare unnerved Shiro, but he kept his face schooled, eyes returning the sharp expression. “You are a very peculiar lifeform.”

“I’ll…take that as a compliment.”

“Hm,” Sendak conceded, though Shiro vaguely wondered what he would be forced to surrender for this small victory. “You will accompany me on my next mission, and if you perform adequately, I will see to finding your other companion.”

Shiro bowed his head – a show of appreciation more than respect. “Thank you.”

“Commander,” Sendak insisted. “And you are to call no other the same title.”

A show of power, of dominance, and of realization. Sendak was attempting to prove Shiro was no longer of the Galaxy Garrison but rather the Galra Empire. An undercurrent of unease simmered just underneath Shiro’s skin, but Shiro endured to save his friends. 

He’d endured whatever he needed to see Keith again, even surrendering his selfish pride.

“Yes…Commander.”

“And you are?”

Shiro blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your name, Champion. What do your comrades call you?”

“Oh.” Shiro blinked. Why was Sendak asking now? “Takashi Shirogane, but my friends call me Shiro.”

“Come then… _Shiro,_ ” Sendak beckoned, saying Shiro’s name slowly as if trying it out and finding it agreeable. With a wave of his claws, the sentries left the bridge. “It is time you learn the specifications of a Galra battleship.”

Later, Shiro would mourn Commander – Sam’s – loss of sanity. He would worry about Matt, lost somewhere in the malevolent clutches of the Galra Empire, and about Keith, too, alone on Earth and probably mourning him. For now, though, Shiro would allow himself a little pleasure. Learning how to pilot an alien warship? This was his Christmas morning.

_Pre-Kerberos_

“Why do you call me that?” Keith spoke again, an unmistakable edge to his voice. 

Even against the dark night of a new moon, Shiro could see the glimmer in Keith’s glistening and captivating violet eyes. “Call you what?”

“Kiddo, buddy, those things,” Keith repeated with disdain. “There’re not my name.”

Shiro laughed freely but quickly tried to pass it off as a cough at the terribly offended look upon Keith’s face. “They’re terms of endearment, Keith. It’s showing affection. I like you, so I give you a nickname.”

“But—but…names are sacred, earned. They’re not just given.”

Shiro ached to think why Keith felt that way and knocked his knee against Keith’s. “Of course they are. Every child born is given one, but nicknames – they are earned in a way. Through time. Through relationships. Through mutual affection. Don’t you think so?”

Keith shrugged, gripping the front of his boots, and allowed Shiro to pull him close again. Though they never discussed it again, Shiro smiled every time Keith accepted his nicknames without further protest. 

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!


	6. Hostile Forces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger in this chapter - please see end notes for explanation.

_Pre-Kerberos_

“The…Gol-rah?”

“ _Galra,_ ” Keith snapped, slowly unwrapping the white cloth from his dagger. “You’re fluent in three languages. How can you not pronounce this correctly?”

“Well, excuse me for not getting an alien word correct.”

“It’s the name of the empire that rules the universe, and everyone knows it – and fears it.”

Shiro’s rocking chair upon the front porch squeaked when it dipped back, and he let out a prolonged sigh. The night sky, complete with a new moon, looked ominously dark now without any light. “So you’re telling me there is one single entity out there that rules the entire universe?”

“More like…ninety-five percent of the known universe.”

“Of which Earth is a part? Because the last time I checked – ” 

“The last time you checked, your people hadn’t even explored its own solar system, and the person sitting next to you wasn’t purple and fuzzy.”

Keith never spoke about his past, and Shiro never pushed. They only briefly touched upon it when Keith accidentally shifted into his furry form – and now, less than two months from the Kerberos mission take-off, away at the cabin for Presidents’ Weekend, Keith broke his silence. 

Shiro took advantage. “Can you shift and let me scratch behind your ears?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on!”

“No!”

“But – ”

“ _Shiro!_ ”

Shiro smiled, eager. “You only let me scratch your ears when you’re sick, so give me this one, all right? You’ve been really healthy lately.”

“This is serious, Shiro,” Keith huffed. “You’re going into space. You’re going to the far reaches of the solar system, and there’s – there’s a chance…”

Shiro’s smile dropped, just a tad, and became even more tender. “Keith, if the Gel-ra – ”

“ _Gal-rah!_ ”

“– is as powerful as you say, then I think they have better things to do than take two scientists and one pilot from a planet they’ve never heard of for a study session.”

“They’ve heard of Earth,” Keith admonished. 

Of course, they had – because Shiro was staring at the proof. Keith’s eyes grew dark and somber, but they were absolutely breathtaking, an otherworldly violet that never ceased to awe Shiro.

“Then why haven’t the Gul-rey –”

“Gal– ”

“ – attacked us yet if they’re all-encompassing?”

Keith thought for a moment, staring down at his dagger in his lap like it was the bane of his existence. “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t need Earth’s resources yet? Perhaps they had to solidify their hold somewhere else?”

“Or maybe they’re just not interested,” Shiro offered with a shrug. 

Keith shook his head. “The Galra aren’t ever _not_ interested. They suck out the life force of every being and every planet it comes across. Shiro, if it finds you –”

“Then it’ll be bored by the amount of knowledge I have about speeders, beer, and Swedish Fish.”

Keith’s grip fell just shy of superhuman, desperately wrapped around Shiro’s wrist and squeezing with too much force. His voice sounded gutted and sharp, slicing through all of Shiro’s good nature. 

“ – its witches will interrogate you, torture you, and then break you.” He lifted his dagger and flipped the hilt until Shiro saw the red symbol painted there, one he’d never laid eyes on but still shuttered to see. “And then their commanders will get a hold of you and make you one of them.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Keith let out a frustrated growl, sounding suspiciously like the cat he didn’t look like at the moment. “Shiro, take this seriously. You don’t know what you’re up against.“

“I’m not ‘up against’ anything,” Shiro interjected. “Keith, I’m going on an exploratory mission. We’re not going to be armed. We’re not going to have any weapons on the ship. They’ll have no reason to abduct us.”

“You’re the best,” Keith said, fact and admiration mingling in his words. “They’ll recognize it immediately and take you.”

Shiro heard the unspoken, _from me._

He sighed, tipping his head back against the rocking chair’s rest, and blinked up at the unfathomable abyss swirling above them. Not a day went by that Shiro didn’t think about what he might encounter when he blasted off to Kerberos, and while he lived with an alien, he never wondered why Keith had come here or why he chose Earth. He was just glad that out of all the planets in all of the solar systems, Keith had crash-landed on his. 

He patted Keith’s hand upon his wrist before finally just laying his across his brother’s. “I’ll come back.”

“Shiro – ”

“You scent-marked me, right? You claimed me as part of your litter or clowder, so…” Shiro jerked a shoulder. “The Gul-rey can’t have me.”

Keith sat there, blinking with a cynical gaze. He wasn’t impressed or pleased. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”

“What gave me away?”

With an exasperated sigh, Keith began rewrapping his dagger. “I wish you would listen to me. The Galra Empire isn’t something to joke about.”

“Oh, come on, Keith.” Shiro ruffled his little brother’s hair, much to Keith’s irritation. “You have to see the humor in all this. Why would the Galra Empire ever want with me?”

_Post-Kerberos_

The daily regiment was familiar, perhaps even comforting to Shiro. To someone who had been a quasi-military organization since he was thirteen, Shiro thrived in such an environment. When Haxus came every morning to unchain him and bring a fresh change of clothes, Shiro was already up and waiting, sitting on the edge of the bed. Then he followed Sendak’s second-in-command – with two drones behind him – to the training deck for his morning session with Sendak. 

This particular morning, however, Haxus didn’t enter the room – Sendak did, dressed in his full battle armor and wearing a grim expression. A sudden chill settled in Shiro’s gut as he stood, and he reached instinctively for the fierce presence that remained in the back of his mind. 

In the time he’d been on Sendak’s ship – he wasn’t sure quite how long – the fierce lioness kept him company, its gentle purring helping to lull him to sleep, its vicious roar resounding when he fought Sendak. And though he appreciated and cherished her presence, it wasn’t as calming and familiar as the soothing lion that completed his soul. 

But he still found strength in the lioness’s presence, and he raised his chin to meet Sendak’s grave countenance. Even he knew not to poke a growling Galra commander. 

“Something wrong?”

Sendak sucked in a deep inhale before presenting Shiro with a different outfit than usual – a purple and black uniform of a Galra sentry. “Change into this and follow me.”

Once the cuffs clattered to the floor, Shiro went to work, tugging off his shirt – his modesty had long been lost – and pulling up his new pants. “You sure you don’t need two sentries? I hear I’ve improved over the last few weeks.”

“You’ve improved, Champion, but you are still no match for me.”

Shiro would have served a rebuttal if he had one and instead slipped on his boots and fastened his belt. He glanced down at the duel eyes upon his chest, glowing a dangerous purple, and something within his stomach twisted, repulsed and frightened. He was wearing a uniform, a second skin. That was all. Wearing the clothes of a Galra sentry didn’t make him one. 

The lioness’s growl was reproachful and rebellious, disliking either his nervousness or the uniform itself, Shiro couldn’t tell. He tried to project his feelings as best he could, but when Sendak motioned for him to follow, Shiro did so without complaint. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in the matter. 

They walked side by side through the hallways and toward what Shiro could only assume to be the bridge between the ship and the base. “You are to walk a step behind me at all times,” Sendak rattled off, and Shiro made mental checks, even if he loathed the entire principle of the list. “You are not to speak unless I specifically ask you. I am the highest ranking commander in the room, and all must yield to me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Above all else,” Sendak continued as if Shiro never spoke, “you are not to escape. You will not succeed, and I will make you regret that one decision until the last moments of your already pitiful life.”

Shiro thought by now he’d be used to the endless stream of threats, but every time, his mind returned to the small, dark cell where he used to lay his head and the bloodied arena where he’s earned the title “Champion.” The Galra made good on their wicked promises. 

So Shiro slowed his step to be one boot behind Sendak as they entered the violet-lined hallway to the space port. “So working for you equates to a pitiful life. Good to know.”

Sendak let out a breathless laugh. “Do not make me take out that smart tongue – or order Haxus to do it. He would thoroughly enjoy that.”

“You sure know how to lift ship morale.”

“I like to keep my subordinates bloodthirsty.”

“You still haven’t said where you’re taking me.”

Stopping before a set of imposing doors, highlighted purple – Shiro liked the color, but the Galra made it an obsession – Sendak regarded Shiro with a scrutinizing glower. 

Shiro recoiled slightly, unnerved. “What?”

Sendak leaned over then, breathing in a tentative sniff. “When you first arrived as part of the Galra Empire, many felines noticed a familiar scent upon you, and I will not have another’s on a member of my fraction.”

Another’s scent? Wait, did Sendak mean Keith’s?

Before Shiro could question, Sendak pounced, hand latching onto his wrist and tugging him against Sendak’s body. Kept in place by a muscular arm about his waist, Shiro blinked when Sendak’s head tucked into the crevasse between his neck and shoulder, his cheek tingling as Sendak’s strands brushed across it. His body, his fur, his glands – Sendak was scent-marking him like Keith had back on Earth, but it was different than when Keith marked him. Sendak nuzzled Shiro’s neck with his snout, tickling the skin, and then brushed his massive hands up Shiro’s front, over his stomach in broad strokes. Sendak’s hands came around, one to press against the curve of Shiro’s lower back and rub in circular, incessant strokes, the other to hold his hip and keep Shiro in place. 

At first, Shiro’s skin crawled, like it wanted out of its own constrictions, but then Sendak’s motions felt _good_ , almost as good as a back rub after a hard training session, and he completely understood Keith’s unconscious urge to purr. 

Then one of Sendak’s claws tipped up Shiro’s chin, pressing his palms against the pale column of Shiro’s throat. Bumps rose upon his skin, and then a warm tongue slid up the smooth curve. 

“Hey!” 

Shiro finally reacted, his brain functioning again, and he jerked his elbow back, only to meet Sendak’s block. “Too slow,” Sendak scolded and with a satisfied sniff, separated himself from Shiro. “If I were a hostile force, you’d be dead by now.”

Shiro snorted. “You are a hostile force.”

Sendak stared at him for a beat, then conceded wordlessly, and walked toward the doors. They opened on their own, and Shiro followed the commander into the spacious but intimidating room. A round table sat in the middle, all but one of the six chairs filled with four warriors dressed similarly to Sendak, each with another warrior behind his chair – their subordinates. The Witch Haggar occupied the chair exactly opposite Sendak’s, face calm but eyes glowing with a righteous rage when she set her sights upon Shiro. 

Shiro forced himself to stay behind Sendak like the other subordinates, but his eyesight drafted to the screens positioned high above table, which shimmered with the beauty of unspoiled stars. A pang of longing caught Shiro by surprise as he remembered the nights he sat upon the cabin’s roof with Keith, just staring into the night sky, engulfed in a comfortable silence. 

He instinctively sought out the fiery lioness, the one who reminded him of Keith. She was uncharacteristic silent now, like she didn’t dare speak to him while in the presence of such high-ranking Galra officers. 

Or perhaps the witch was blocking the lioness somehow?

“You beckoned, Haggar,” Sendak began, and all side conversations stopped immediately, all the commanders’ attention set upon Zarkon’s second-in-command. 

Haggar nodded and stood, her hands glowing with an inky, ominous power. “There has been a resurgence of a unique energy signature over the past few months, a pulsating, wild energy that initially resurfaced just under two cycles ago. Only recently have I been able to pinpoint the source of this disturbance.” 

She wove the power with distinctive motions, and the purple strands took shape in the middle of the table, the violet burning away in a fury of red flames. They eventually formed a lion – sleek and robotic, fierce and cunning – part animal, part ship, but all powerful and exhilarating. Shiro couldn’t deny the rush of excitement he felt just by seeing the advanced warship. 

But perhaps this ship wasn’t a lion, since it lacked a mane. Perhaps it was a lioness…?

“The Red Lion,” Prorock wondered. “Impossible. You must be seeing ghosts, Witch.”

“Deny, for all the good it will do you,” Haggar chided, “but the truth remains. Voltron has awaken.”

The word thrummed in Shiro’s heart, resonating in his very soul. An overwhelming feeling of déjà vu overcame him, like he’d heard the word before but couldn’t quite place from whom and where. He sought his lion and lioness, but they remained suspiciously silent in the back of his mind. 

One of the commanders did not, shouting over the stunned silence, “You dare speak its name!”

“It is not something to fear, for this time, we will control it. The Red Lion roars for its paladin, who is now long gone – ”

“ – so it has chosen another,” Sendak affirmed. 

Haggar’s eyes narrowed, and the lion in the middle of the table became animated, tearing through Galra ships, first with her jaw-blade and then with her firepower. She was simply amazing, a fierce challenger to battle the monstrous empire. 

Sendak’s voice remained firm, pitched to command, “And have you located it?”

“Yes.” The lion then faded from sight, replaced by a picture of a desert planet where cacti forests and powdery sand dunes contrasted vibrant and majestic rock formations – red-rock canyons, basaltic prisms, and limestone pillars. Deep ravines and sandstone buttes served as the footprints of highly technological cities, and the natives, who appeared to have glowing eyes, long whipping tails, and sun-kissed scales like the rays of the planet’s orange-hued sun, channeled the star’s intense heat into power. It fueled their vehicles and their defenses in the canyons’ narrow tunnels, though they still lived by flame-light for street lamps and household light. The culture itself blended old with new, and Shiro found himself fascinated by the beauty of it. 

“The Red Lion stirs upon this planet, but its presence remains cloaked from what remains of Alfor’s energy, I detect. His Majesty requests its capture.”

“And how do you propose we find it if you cannot?”

Shiro’s eyes widened, and he forced himself to remain a step behind Sendak’s chair when the witch’s loathsome gaze set upon him. “I have detected the same energy upon your ship for quite some time, Sendak. I believe the lion may have chosen its newest paladin, and he will be able to lead you to its location.”

Great, now the empire’s strongest commanders and warriors all stared at him, except Sendak, who kept his stern expression focused on the witch. Shiro had witnessed the vile nature of the Galra Empire firsthand, and he feared to speculate what each one of the commanders was thinking at that moment. He wasn’t sure why this lioness – the Red Lion, he knew now – spoke to him, but by the apprehensive and downright frightened – Galra commanders actually felt fear? – expressions upon their faces, he surmised they wouldn’t take well to this robotic beast speaking to the only human in the room. And he was right. The fear quickly shifted into belligerence, and Prorock swung toward the witch. 

“We shouldn’t let them bond. Let’s kill the Red Paladin before he and the rest will rise up against the empire.”

“Do not speak betrayal.” Sendak’s unwavering voice was pitched to warn. “His Majesty trusted us with this mission, and we will complete it.”

Prorock’s eyes drifted upward to narrow at Shiro before once more focusing on Sendak. “Or are you just protecting your latest cub?”

Sendak? Protecting him? Shiro wasn’t sure what to make of that or how that made him feel other than uncomfortable. 

“You forget your place, Prorock,” Sendak’s voice carried, “but His Majesty is an original paladin. If he wishes for one of his own to remain alive, then we will keep Champion that way until such a time as Lord Zarkon wishes otherwise.” Before Prorock could retort, Sendak continued, “Champion and I will go to the surface and locate the Red Lion. Prorock, have your forces ready in case they are needed. Haxus will ready my battlecruiser to corral and transport the Red Lion.”

Corral…?

Prorock huffed with displeasure but didn’t argue. 

Haggar’s long fingers scrapped along the table while her eyes flashed an insatiable yellow as she stared at Shiro like a toy she had yet to break. “Afterwards, Lord Zarkon wishes to meet the new Red Paladin.”

The emperor of the Galra Empire – Zarkon himself – requested Shiro’s presence? A wave of lightheadedness washed over Shiro, and his stomach bottomed out. He kept his face schooled as best he could, though his breathing quickened. Was this why Sendak told him not to run? Because he knew that Zarkon wanted to see him? But for what? And what was a _paladin?_

After a tentative beat, Sendak nodded. “Of course. However, we have one last order to address before the mission. Prorock, can you explain how my subordinate came to be scent-marked by yours?”

The purple Galra soldier behind Prorock stiffened, his mouth opening slightly in confusion, while Shiro did the same. That made no sense. Only two people had ever scent-marked Shiro – as far as he knew – Sendak himself and…

Shiro sucked in a sharp inhale as something deep within him trembled. In excitement or dread, he wasn’t sure. 

Prorock glanced over his shoulder at his subordinate, bewildered. “Thace, have you had any contact with Champion?”

Thace blinked again, then finally uttered, “No, Commander, not that I am aware. From where did Champion originate?”

“He called it Earth,” Sendak snapped. “It is in a solar system not yet conquered by the empire.”

A horrible realization flashed through Thace’s face momentarily before his features smoothed, his expression more stern than blank now. “I have visited many unruly planets during scouting missions, sir. Perhaps I met Champion before he became a prisoner of the empire.”

“And your scent remained upon him this long?” Prorock demanded. 

Thace remained firm, but Shiro saw the fear that blinked through his sight. Shiro had no choice at that moment. Even if this Thace never saw his son again – and Shiro preferred it that way – there was no way he could watch Keith’s father die. 

So he spoke. “I do not believe the soldier to remember a lowly gladiator, but he came to watch the games in – uk!”

Shiro choked, pain infiltrating his back, his lungs suddenly burning at the pressure upon his shoulders and throat. Every inhale was a struggle, and Sendak’s hot breath brushed across Shiro’s cringing face. 

“I made it clear you do were to speak unless I beckoned. Know your place, prisoner.”

Sendak’s claws pierced Shiro’s neck, ripping a guttural hiss from Shiro before he was released. No matter how many times he was choked, the next breath was always the sweetest one Shiro ever inhaled. Sendak loomed over him, waiting for him to speak again, but Shiro said nothing, only winced with every painful wheeze until his heaves calmed. He learned early with Keith not to poke a feral cat, though he didn’t always listen to his own advice. This time, he wouldn’t get a miffed huff and a turned back. If he pushed Sendak, he was sure to lose a limb. 

Sendak turned from him finally, eyes flaming toward the group. “Perhaps you should teach your subordinates the same lesson, Prorock.”

The rival commander stood but kept his tongue. Through his narrowed eyes, Shiro watched Thace raise his chin and look down upon him with blatant scorn. 

Shiro mentally snorted. _You’re welcome._

“I need time to prepare my fleet. We will head out before the day is done. Vrepit sa.”

The rest of the room responded in kind, and then Sendak glared down at Shiro, expectation blazing in those baleful eyes. Shiro allowed his own eyes to burn a rebellious glint. They could beat him. They could throw him into an arena and force him to battle for his life, and they could make him learn from Zarkon’s most fearsome commander, but they couldn’t make him pledge allegiance to their malevolent empire. 

Sendak’s face remained apathetic as he simply waited before crouching low. His claws grasped Shiro’s chin, the claw brushing across Shiro’s cheek with derisive affection. “Do not force yourself yet, Champion. Soon you will see the true, unstoppable force of the Galra Empire, and you will not be able to fight your destiny any longer.”

And still neither the Black Lion or the Red Lion spoke to him.

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sendak forcibly scent-marks Shiro, but it's not sexual in nature. The majority of it is Sendak massaging Shiro's lower back, neck, and stomach, and at the end, Sendak licks up Shiro's neck once.


	7. Separation Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So apparently there's going to be another trailer for Season 2? *mind-blown*

_Pre-Kerberos_

Anticipation and excitement blended to make a dangerous cocktail in Shiro’s gut, and despite numerous attempts to swallow the feeling, fear burned low and deep and true. Tomorrow, he would be strapped into the shuttle along with Commander Holt and his son, Matt, and then he’d blast into outer space and off this mudball of planet to the farthest point any human had ever reached. 

After a final meal with their respective families – Commander Holt and Matt with Mrs. Holt and Katie, and Shiro with Keith – the Kerberos Mission Crew had been sequestered for the night to ready themselves for lift-off. But Shiro couldn’t sleep, never really could before any mission. 

He waited until the moon ushered in a blanket of darkness over the garrison campus, then put on his inconspicuous black hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. Evading three guards, two officers, and a medical professional, he took to the shadows about the barracks. 

He’d checked with Iverson to make sure his officer’s quarters would be kept until he returned – e.g. Keith would have somewhere to crash – and headed there first. He rapped lightly on the door, hoping Keith would answer, though he understood when Keith didn’t. He knocked again, tried to call, too, but still nothing. 

Eventually, Shiro’s shoulders slumped, and he resolved to climb the fire escape to the bedroom window. Through the glass, he saw Keith, asleep on his bed, face red and puffy from crying. Shiro stopped himself from opening the window, deciding to let Keith sleep rather than wake him for one last good-bye. 

It was better for Keith this way, and maybe – maybe Iverson was right. Perhaps he should have let Keith go when he ran away all those months ago – but they were family. It was a new sensation to Shiro, having grown up alone in Tokyo, followed by the inadvertent isolation at the garrison, but Shiro knew family wasn’t something you just surrendered because it was inconvenient. If anything, that was when you held on tighter and cherished the bonds you’ve formed. 

So Shiro worked his fingers under the windowsill and pushed up, making a mental note to remind Keith to lock all windows and doors before going to sleep at night. He crept forward, approaching his sleeping little brother as he would a wild lion, and bent down by the side of the bed. Brushing his hand along Keith’s back, lightly, gently, he coaxed Keith from his agitated slumber.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s me,” Shiro whispered softly as to not startle his prickly little brother. “Can you get up for just a few moments? Then I’ll let you get back to sleep, okay? But I need you to get up, buddy.”

One otherworldly eye peeked out from underneath that dark tuff of hair, and then Keith bolted up, surprise and concern enveloping his features. 

“Shiro! You’re here!” He tugged on Shiro’s sleeves. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

A tender smile brightened Shiro’s features, and he pulled Keith – perhaps without any hesitation, for the first time since their meeting – into a warm embrace. 

“I had to see you one last time, kiddo,” Shiro whispered into his brother’s hair, his own body losing the tension he wasn’t aware it had been holding. 

Keith stiffened, then melted, burying his face in Shiro’s chest, and Shiro had to bite his lower lip to keep from laughing. Keith unconsciously began to claim Shiro as his family again, spreading his scent upon Shiro as best he could, and the motions were soothing, familiar, and welcomed. Shiro only wished he could have the same effect upon Keith. 

When Keith finally relaxed, Shiro just held on, unwilling to let his little brother out of the embrace. He curled his body about Keith’s, as if hoping to protect him forever, and then whispered, “You’ll talk to Iverson if you have any issues, right?”

A nod. 

“You’ll go to classes. You’ll won’t get into any fights or shouting matches with the younger cadets, right?”

Another nod. 

Shiro inhaled a shaky breath and blinked back the tears that fell anyway. He braced himself for the inevitable separation, though he refused to do it first. He waited, even after the dawn brightened the colorful horizon, for Keith to recoil, and then he unzipped his hoodie to fit its larger form over Keith’s slender shoulders. 

“Don’t worry about me, kiddo. I’m coming back.”

“Shiro…” Keith croaked, his arms sliding into the sleeves before his shoulders slumped. The motion reminded Shiro of a pouting cat, so he tried to ease some of Keith’s discomfort by pressing his lips against his brother’s warm forehead. “I love you, Keith, and I’ll be back sooner than you think.”

He turned away as quickly as he could, so he didn’t have to see that look of ultimate betrayal upon Keith’s face again. What he didn’t expect was to be ambushed from behind, Keith’s arms fitting about his torso in a powerful hold, forehead pressed against his back. 

“Don’t forget about me,” Keith whimpered, and Shiro knew that could never happen. 

Keith was the one person in this world he could never forget, purple ears and all. 

Speaking of which… “Hey, Keith, could you shift – ”

“No!”

“Geez, kiddo. With that hiss, you'd think I de-clawed you or something.”

 

_Post-Kerberos_

Shiro avoided Sendak as best he could, though it was all but impossible now that Sendak allowed him onto the bridge. The sentries came for him in the morning, leading him to the command deck, and Shiro helped to fly the ship in various positions – pilot, co-pilot, navigator, even engineer. The few times he received breaks, he sat upon the stairs leading up to the viewer platform until such a time as Sendak wished to spar. 

His wardrobe now consisted of only Galra uniforms, much to his disgust, but he dressed, fought, and learned without complaint, Commander Holt always in the back of his mind. He wondered how his former leader fared and if Sendak was actively looking for Matt, even though Sendak agreed to search only after their next mission. 

An invasion. This was most definitely not in the Galaxy Garrison’s leadership curriculum, and Shiro wondered what Keith would say if he ever told him about any of this. 

Shiro snorted and fidgeted with the sleeves of his new cut-off gloves. No doubt, Keith would encourage him to do what he had to, to survive. That was the way of the Galra Empire, though Shiro long accepted that despite his purple fur and glowing yellow eyes, Keith was certainly not one of them. 

But Shiro feared as he clasped his hands together, elbows resting lightly on his knees. Was he becoming like them? By simply accepting this invitation to invade, was he becoming one of the elite soldiers – or prisoners – of the Galra Empire? And where, ultimately, would that leave him?

“This is no different than the arena,” Sendak began, coming to sit within arm’s reach of Shiro. “You will go down to the planet, conquer your enemy, and claim your prize.”

Shiro snorted. “My prize was always another battle.”

“And such you will have it.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Sendak shifted, and if Shiro didn’t know better, he would have thought Sendak was uncomfortable. “I am not here to mollify you. I am here to use you to find Volton.” 

“What is this…Voltron?” The word sounded so familiar, so…right. Like the pieces of Shiro’s soul were slowly forging together, using the Red Lion’s encouraging rumbles as adhesive.

Sighing, Sendak leaned back upon his elbows, and for the first time, Shiro thought he spied the commander completely at ease. “It is a legend, told to children of the Galra Empire, of five fantastical lions – part mystical energy, part mechanical animals – that combine to form the universe’s most powerful weapon.”

Lions. Shiro dropped his hands from his knees, uncurling from his tight pose as the Red Lion purred in the back of his mind. “And Haggar believes it’s real?”

“It _is_ real,” Sendak insisted. “Each lion bonds with its pilot, who receives the title ‘paladin.’ Our emperor, Lord Zarkon, was the original Black Paladin and leader of Voltron.”

“And he lost it?” Shiro couldn’t keep the derisive snort from his reply. “How did the emperor of the universe lose the most powerful weapon?”

Sendak laughed, short but true, and shook his head. “I do not know, and I do not question. However, the resurgence of the Red Lion is quite promising, and Lord Zarkon will reclaim Voltron – or I will for him.”

Red growled, vicious and ruthless in a way she never had before. “And you think I can help you?”

“Haggar believes you may be one of the paladins, the Red Paladin specifically.” Sendak sounded skeptical. “She believes once you are on the surface of the planet, the Red Lion will lure you to it.”

“I don’t feel comfortable delivering the universe’s most powerful weapon to its greatest enemy.”

“I do not believe you have a choice,” Sendak replied. “Despite any _incentives_ I could give you, the lions have not found paladins worthy of their presence in more than ten thousand years. I’m sure you cannot simply ignore them, Shiro – though I do not understand why they do not simply ignore you.”

Shiro couldn’t stop the smile from forming upon his face. “Did you just…tease me?”

Sendak immediately lifted his chin and glanced away, an annoyed scowl upon his face. “Do not be absurd.”

Shiro fidgeted with gloves again, unsure how to feel about the second-highest commander in the Galra Empire speaking to him so familiarly, so fondly. And yet –

“You’re just jealous the lion chose me instead of you.” Though if Shiro was honest with himself, he didn’t quite understand the lions’ affection for him either.

“I am still not convinced the Red Lion has chosen you,” Sendak admitted, all the good nature in his voice replaced with cold fact. “Haggar felt the awakening of the Red Lion less than two cycles ago.”

What a cycle was, Shiro could only guess. 

“She believes a lion is awakened by its paladin’s birth, so if I am correct in my assessment, you would be too old to have prompted the Red Lion’s resurgence.”

The Red Lion purred, confirming Sendak’s suspicions, though Shiro wondered then why the Red Lion spoke to him if he were not her paladin.

Shiro eventually asked as such, and Sendak huffed. “I have my suspicions, but it is too early to speculate. All you need to know is that you are the key to finding the other paladins and by extension, the other lions.”

“Hm. And I was worried you might be cryptic about the whole thing.” Shiro raked a hand through his hair before dropping his forehead to his bent knees once more. “You must know that if I do find the most powerful weapon in the universe and it does like me for whatever reason, I will use it against the Galra Empire.”

“The Galra Empire is all you need now, Shiro,” Sendak stated, and it took all of Shiro’s strength not to hit off the sudden, mock-comforting hand upon his shoulder. “There is no other relationship you will ever need outside of it.”

“No,” Shiro affirmed. “I told you before. I’m going home. I will step foot on Earth again.”

“If you are to survive, then you must leave your past life behind.”

“I won’t turn away from the only family I have ever known.”

Sendak’s yellowed eyes glowed with a glimmer of sympathy. “It would save him.”

“How? He’s safe back on Earth, waiting for me to return.”

Sendak’s piercing gaze never wavered, and it unnerved Shiro how Sendak seemed to stare directly into his soul. But Shiro didn’t look away. He wouldn’t because no matter what Sendak said, Shiro would never give up his brother, but his insides liquefied the moment Sendak spoke. 

“Once we conquer Earth, the Galra Empire will find your brother and bring him here. You will be forced to break the only bond you had ever known in the most brutal fashion, so you can prove your undying loyalty to the empire and it alone.”

Shiro’s blood froze; he had some idea of the cruel gauntlet Sendak had endured but not the details. Though Shiro feared to know them, Sendak told him anyway.

“In the arena, before Zarkon took me as his apprentice, he demanded I prove my loyalty to the Galra Empire, so he made my brother my opponent in my last battle.” There was no remorse in voice, no sorrow. He simply stated fact. “It was my last act of mercy.”

Shiro tasted the bile in the back of his throat, which mixed with the metallic taste of blood. “ _Y-You killed your own brother?_ ”

“He was younger, weaker. It was a miracle that he survived the games as long as he did, and I ended his tortured life swiftly. He felt no pain.”

Shiro’s breath hitched; his stomach plummeted. He couldn’t fathom ever contemplating such emotional savagery, couldn’t even imagine what Sendak must have felt in that moment, reclaiming his brother only to lose him again – to kill him. And what had Sendak’s brother felt – overjoyed to see his older brother again, only to meet his end at the hand of the one person whom he thought would save him. 

Shiro couldn’t fathom such an unspeakable hell. 

“Perhaps he would be here instead of me,” Sendak said, as if he heard Shiro’s thoughts. “I could not imagine how he would react to Lord Zarkon’s absolute commands.”

“So instead you killed him,” Shiro rasped. 

“That is one way of looking at it.” Sendak rose then and glared up at the imposing command screens. “I choose to believe I saved him from the empire. Now, ready yourself. We’ll be arriving at our destination in twenty ticks.”

Shiro rose as well and followed the sentries to the armory. As soon as he was alone – or alone as he could be on the ship – he allowed the fierce shiver to overtake his body. His back pressed against the cool wall, his legs folding underneath him until he sat upon the floor. 

How could such evil exist in the universe? Shiro couldn’t fathom, and a part of him never wanted to. 

The Red Lion’s sorrow echoed the pain in his heart. 

 

_Pre-Kerberos_

“Do you mean it?”

Grumpy, moody, but endearingly vulnerable Keith sounded excited, like he could hardly contain his emotions, and Shiro didn’t stop the indulgent smile that widened his lips. 

“Yeah, of course,” Shiro said on the other side of the connection. “Once we return successful from Kerberos, Iverson promised me a huge promotion. That means command of my own mission, and then I get to pick the crew. And of course, I’m going to need the best pilot in the garrison.”

Shiro told himself over and over he couldn’t laugh, but Keith practically vibrated in his chair back on Earth, anticipation and exhilaration too much for his young body to take. Shiro loved Keith for who he was, but a part of him wanted to break down that barrier, get Keith to allow himself to feel those emotions he kept bottled up inside. If he didn’t, Shiro didn’t want to think of the long-term consequences. 

“I’ll spend more time in the simulator. I’m going to get pass level 57, and then – ” He stopped short, looking forlorn for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice barely made it the thousands of miles to the shuttle. “I miss you.”

Shiro’s heart broke then, and he flexed his right hand, wanting to bury it in Keith’s soft mop. “I miss you, kiddo, but on my next mission, you’ll be right beside me.”

_To Be Continued..._


	8. The Red Paladin

_Post-Kerberos_

Despite his revulsion of the Galra Empire in general, Shiro was impressed by the workings of Sendak’s battleship crew. Haxus took over the command of the vessel effortlessly as it entered the planet’s atmosphere, and as Shiro walked into the hanger, he found Sendak ready for battle, save the last check of weapons and equipment. 

Shiro came to Sendak’s side and made sure his blaster was fully charged, then placed it upon his thigh, where it disappeared from sight. 

“It is hidden in your suit,” Sendak explained, stashing away his larger weapon. “It will re-appear in your hand if you place your palm over the three lines on your thigh.”

Haxus entered then to rundown the mission perimeters one last time and after Sendak dismissed him, ignored his boss to present Shiro with his helmet. “You’ll need to wear this in case of the sandstorms,” Haxus informed matter-of-factly. “The planet is compatible with your weak human facilities, but you won’t be able to breathe if you’re caught in a harsh weather. Of course, I’d enjoy watching you choke to death, but that would leave the commander open for attack.”

“Haxus,” Sendak warned, but the second-in-command did not falter. 

“The Galra Empire is ruthless, unyielding, and you do not know why.”

Shiro knew better than to interrupt this time. 

“It is because we value the empire and those within it above all else. Prove today you are one of us.”

“I’m not,” Shiro vowed, “and I never will be.”

“Then know this,” Haxus seethed, invading Shiro’s personal space. “If you do not succeed, pray for a swift death – because you won’t get one if you return to this ship without the commander.”

Shiro triple-checked his blaster and glanced up at the awaiting – glowering – Haxus. “Find a half-mystical, half-mechanical lion, hopefully avoid destroying a peaceful planet, and then return to the ship with your commander. Do I have the mission parameters correct?”

He never thought that was a sentence he would say. 

Haxus snatched the helmet from Shiro’s hand and situated it upon Shiro’s head, switching on the see-through face mask. “Protect the commander and find the Red Lion. Priorities in that order.” He turned to his commander with a bow and placed a fist over his chest. “Vrepit sa, sir.”

“Vrepit sa, Haxus,” Sendak responded with just a hint of empathy – or perhaps Shiro just imagined it, “Champion and I will meet you at the rendezvous site.” 

_Don’t worry,_ he said. _I’ll be fine._

“Of course, sir. See you there.”

So Haxus was Sendak’s Keith. God, that thought twisted Shiro’s stomach, so he decided to ignore it. He followed Sendak into the small, two-person craft, shooting a disheartened glance at the commander when he took the pilot’s seat. 

“Are you ready to bring glory to the Galra Empire, Champion?” Sendak asked as his hands swiped over the controls, waking the ship’s engines. 

“Option two is death, right? Can I get back to you?”

“Don’t wait too long.”

Shiro slammed back into his chair as Sendak hit on the thrusters, but the momentary discomfort subsided as the brilliant lights of space stole his attention. Immersed in the vast dark sea, the stars shimmered with a breathtaking iridescence Shiro never saw from Earth, and he sat dumbstruck by their shimmering beauty. 

“It is quite amazing out here,” Sendak murmured, soft as if not to disturb Shiro’s not-so-private moment. 

“It’s why I volunteered to join the garrison,” Shiro replied, equally as low. He never looked away from the cockpit’s viewer screen, staring with unveiled wonder. “I wanted to see it all up close – and I thought – I _knew_ there was something out here, something…extraordinary and powerful. I – I just never guessed it would be a robotic lion.”

“Your planet was very sheltered. You should be honored to have been given such a privileged position in the Galra Empire.”

Shiro let out a huffed laugh. “I’m not quite sure ‘honored’ is the correct word for what I feel.”

Before Sendak could rebuke, the spacecraft cleared the atmosphere and exited the thick, gray clouds, revealing the desert landscape that was this serene planet. It, too, was beautiful in its own way with the lakes of sands, shimmering mountains, and bustling cities ablaze with fire-light. Shiro wished he could have marveled at it longer, but a furious roar stole his breath and echoed so loudly in his mind, he couldn’t focus. 

She was here. The fiery lioness was on this planet. It was a gut instinct, a moment of true clairvoyance, and Shiro wouldn’t explain it. Instead, he tipped his head back against the rest and closed his eyes as the ferocious roar thrummed his very soul, tugging on a tether he didn’t know existed.

“You heard the Red Lion?” Sendak demanded, but Shiro couldn’t respond, couldn’t think, the lion’s voice so loud it drowned out his very thoughts.

Was she calling to him? Was she angry at him for leading Sendak and the Galra here? No, that wasn’t what that sound was…Shiro had this all wrong. 

“Shiro,” Sendak called again. 

The fiery lioness wasn’t mad at all. She was elated, happy. The fiery lioness wanted to see him, called to him, and she didn’t care that the Galra was with him, only that he was here to see her. 

_Where are you, Red?_

“Shiro, can you feel her presence?” Sendak pressed, soaring purposefully away from the fire-lit cities. “Have you located the Red Lion?”

Shiro could see her – yes. Brilliant and lonely, surrounded by a particle barrier and awaiting her paladin, the Red Lion sat on her haunches in the middle of a massive mountain, hidden beneath the glowing sandstone cliffs. 

“Y-Yes,” he managed, her loud roar still overwhelming. He pointed toward the mountainous range north of the ravine city. “She’s in there.”

Her roar died down to an encouraging purr, leading Shiro – and Sendak – closer and closer to her location. Didn’t she realize how dangerous it was? Why would the fiery lioness be willing to give herself to the Galra Empire? Perhaps after ten thousand years, she trusted her leader’s choice for a paladin, even if it had been a mistake?

Shiro blinked, suddenly uncomfortable for the first time since he started hearing the lions. What if Red’s leader was wrong and chose the wrong paladin? What if it still wanted Zarkon? 

What he did know was that the Red Lion resonated a sadness that he could not even begin to understand, and he needed to get to her and ease her suffering – yes, she was in agony. As the ship soared towards the crystalline mountains, excitement and anticipation charged the very air of the ship’s cockpit. It practically choked him with its thick emotion. 

Too bad every alarm in the spacecraft decided to blare at that moment. 

“What do the sensors say?”

Shiro could barely focus, delirious from the lion’s presence, but he managed to skim the information that scrolled up his screen. “I’m tri-lingual – and apparently speak lion as well. You want me to read Galra, too?”

“If you lie to me again, I will let Haxus fight you.”

“You want me to kick his ass? What do you think that’ll do to his morale?”

“Sensors. Now!”

Shiro wiped his tongue along his bottom lip and skimmed the read-outs. Sure, he had been learning the Galra language as per Sendak’s orders, Shiro he had never been questioned about his proficiency. Since languages were one of his talents, he had hoped to keep that newly acquired skill to himself, but now…

“Two fighters are locked onto us.”

“Engaging in evasive maneuvers.” 

When the spacecraft made a sudden jerk, Shiro seethed through his clenched teeth, “Do you have any fighter pilot training?”

“I am the most decorated commander in his emperor’s – ”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

The alarms grew high-pitched and became squeals as the missiles rushed toward them, and Shiro’s eyes roamed over the ship’s dashboard. It took less than a moment before he ascertained the correct switches, and in two snaps, he seized control of the ship.

“Shiro – ”

“Will you trust me!”

Shiro directed the ship into a forward roll, narrowly avoiding the first missile, and then he pulled up at the last moment, allowing the second missile to slam into the side of the mountain in front of them. 

Sendak let out a low growl. “I would have done that.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Now let’s lose these guys.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” But Sendak hit a few buttons and purple energy soared toward the chasing fighters. The first exploded, but the second weaved out of the way, still hanging tight on their tail. 

The guilt kicked in a moment later – that fighter was only protecting his home, and here Shiro was invading this peaceful planet for the good of the Galra. 

“Locking onto target.”

No. Shiro jerked the throttle the moment Sendak fired, sending the purple fire veering to the left of the fighter ship. 

“What are you doing?” Sendak snarled. “The shot would have ended the resistance.”

“They didn’t ask for this.”

“That doesn’t matter. Success or death.”

“I won’t help you kill another soul.”

“And I won’t let you get us killed!”

Sendak took over the controls, but he wasn’t skilled enough to avoid the fighter’s attack. The second missile slammed into the ship’s back, sending them spiraling toward the ground. 

“You were saying?” Shiro shouted. 

“Know that you are an insufferable creature.”

 _Says the overgrown cat,_ Shiro thought, but Red took offense, letting out a threatened growl. 

When the missile hit, the wailing alarms drowned out Red’s vicious growl. Shiro clutched the dashboard as the spacecraft barreled toward the planet’s surface, the gravitational forces threatening to tear him apart. The spacecraft landed hard, first slamming into the surface before jumping into the air again. It finally crashed in the middle of the cactus forest, hitching up on its side. Shiro hissed, his restraints holding him firm against the chair with bruising force. His tense muscles ached from the violent reverberations, and his head slowly recovered from the brutal fluctuations of pressure, but the Red Lion seemed relieved, purring in his mind. 

Sendak was already moving, and Shiro followed his lead, unclipping his belt and maneuvering out of his seat. 

“It won’t be long until they are upon us.” Sendak placed a hand to his thigh, reclaiming its blaster from its hidden holster. “Which way to the Red Lion?”

Shiro reacted without thinking, the roar of the lioness so loud he winced. “This way.”

The dry air of the desert planet hit Shiro harder than he would have liked, and memories of his time with Keith replayed in his mind. He’d been able to keep the longing at bay, closing off his heart while working with the Galra soldiers on Sendak’s ship, but during the quiet chaos at night, when he laid awake in bed and stared up at the ceiling, he allowed his thoughts to drift to Keith. An acute agony settled deep within his chest, and he wondered if his brother still went out to the cabin. He wondered if Keith knew he was alive or if the Galaxy Garrison had declared him dead. Did anyone even know what happened to him – to the Kerberos Mission crew?

If not…what had they told Keith? Was he okay? Was Commander Iverson looking after him, or did he leave Keith to own devices?

Immediately, he stopped that train of thought, even as a warm breeze blew through the rock canyons and ruffled the desert willow branches. He wasn’t home, sitting on a rock next to Keith or lounging with his brother upon the cabin’s roof, staring at the limitless beauty above. Instead, he was on an unknown planet light years away from Earth, playing the part of a hostile alien force, invading this once peaceful planet in search of a mystical lion that may or may not be part of the greatest weapon in the universe. 

Yeah, where was _that_ class at the garrison?

As soon as Shiro rounded the scorched side of the Galra ship, a zap of electricity sizzled past his face and slammed into the burnt spacecraft. Shiro immediately retreated, bringing his own weapon to bear. Sendak didn’t wait, reaching around Shiro to fire off two quick shots. 

Shiro hit his wrist away. “You can’t shoot at them. We’re invading _their_ planet.”

“As if that matters.”

“Despite what you may think, not everything in the universe belongs to the Galra.”

“You are correct, Shiro.” Sendak pushed Shiro behind him and blocked the responding shots with his thick armor. “Everything in the universe belongs to Lord Zarkon.”

Of course it did. Shiro rolled his eyes, only to be shaken in the very fabric of his soul when the Red Lion beckoned him with another resounding roar. She was impatient and done waiting for her paladin – or any one of Voltron’s. 

A fierce wind surged through the rocky landscape once more, and Shiro closed his eyes, allowing the brief reprieve from the heat to soothe his fears and stabilize his thoughts. What they needed to escape was a distraction, and as he glanced back at the beaten and for all intents and purposes, destroyed spacecraft, a plan came to mind. 

“Hold them off for a few more minutes,” Shiro yelled, “and don’t shoot them in any major organs.”

“I cannot make such guarantees.”

Shiro hurried back into the cockpit and quickly scanned the still illuminated dashboard. After punching in the correct sequence, he dashed out of the cockpit and snatched the back of Sendak’s armor, shocking the commander. 

“Let’s move!”

“But the rebels – ”

“Stay and die. Leave and succeed. Those are your only options.”

Sendak did not need to be told again. 

They took off into the cactus forest as fast as they could, weaving about the sharp thorns and branches when the spacecraft’s explosion forced them to the sand. Heat washed over their bodies, slicking Shiro’s already dirtied skin with a fresh coat of grime. The deafening ringing drove away all other thought, and he moaned, flipping onto his back to gather his senses. 

Sendak, huffing wet pants through his sharp teeth, already stood over him, reaching out a hand. 

“Get up. More will be coming.”

Shiro wasn’t sure exactly what the commander said, but he accepted the hand and was hauled to his feet. Within moments, they resumed their run, the burning remnants of the ship keeping the rebels at bay. Perhaps blowing up their only vehicle wasn’t the best tactic, but Haxus and Sendak had worked out a rendezvous point. So the ship was no longer needed. 

Wait. Sendak knew this would happen – or at least that he and Shiro would be attacked. But why? What was Shiro missing from all this?

Before he could follow that thought, Shiro sucked in shallow, quick breaths, following the Red Lion’s lead. Her seductive purr grew louder with every step he took, encouraging him, luring him. As he raced from the desert sands into the massive red rock canyon, the air came alive with a familiar electricity. A surge of power whipped through the rock jaunts, ruffling Shiro’s hair and brushing against his flushed cheeks. 

_You have come,_ it said. 

“Get down!” Sendak slammed hard into Shiro’s back, knocking him to the ground. 

The collision knocked the air from Shiro’s lungs, leaving his chest burning for air and spots blotting the landscape in front of him. And Shiro had no time to recover as the canyon exploded with blaster fire. 

The Red Lion roared in his mind, enraged that their meeting was delayed, but Sendak crushed Shiro against the ground. His massive body was so much bigger that his chin fit right over Shiro’s head, and every shaky breath he took pressed his muscular chest further into Shiro’s back.

As more blasts slammed the sand next to their bodies, Shiro elbowed Sendak, perhaps too hard, in the gut. “Hey! We have to move!”

Shiro gasped as his elbow came away wet. 

Shit. 

“Commander – ”

Sendak grunted, not quite a groan but certainly painful. “I’m fine.” He lifted his torso just enough to let Shiro out from underneath him, and Shiro immediately returned fire, praying that he only hit inanimate objects. With the decrease number of shots heading his way, Shiro tried not to think too much on the matter and instead surveyed the area. 

The massive red rock canyon provided ample cover and defenses against the approaching forces, and maybe together, they could have held their own. But Sendak trembled as his left arm twitched, the armor over his right shoulder cracked and the under tunic burned away, leaving blood-soaked fur. He was no condition to fight. 

Shiro clenched his teeth, hating every fiber of his being. Even if Shiro hated everything Sendak stood for and everything Sendak had done to him, he couldn’t just leave the commander bloody and vulnerable on a desert planet as opposing forces approached. After all Sendak had saved his life twice now – taking Shiro from the arena and now taking blaster fire for him. 

But he still lost another piece of his soul as he returned fire once more. 

The Red Lion was…pleased with his decision? To fire upon innocent beings? How could that be? No, she was glad he fought to stay alive, to come to her, but he couldn’t. There was no way he could collect her and get Sendak to safety – and she made her displeasure well-known with a fierce roar of command. 

_Come._

Shiro wished he could, but he needed to collect Sendak first and reach the rendezvous point where Haxus would retrieve them. Perhaps he and the commander would be successful on their second attempt, or perhaps once he gave Sendak over to Haxus, he could return alone to find the Red Lion. 

Red warned him not to leave, to continue until he reached her side, but he wouldn’t be able to unless he made it out of this ordeal alive. So Shiro first returned fire, keeping the forces at bay, and then knelt by Sendak’s side before he found his saving grace – a bunch of boulders teetering right at the canyon’s opening. A few well-placed shots brought the rocks thundering down the mountainside, cutting off the advancing forces. It wouldn’t be long until they managed to take to the skies again, so Shiro quickly holstered his blaster and scrutinized Sendak’s wound. 

The commander must have noticed his concern. A moment later, he managed in a dry wheeze, “I’ve received worse in the arena.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t, so you must have been a terrible gladiator.”

Sendak let that slide with a dry laugh but hitched a quick, painful gasp when Shiro took his good arm and slung it around his shoulder. Thankfully, the injury appeared to be isolated, so when he heaved Sendak to his feet, he might have wobbled, but the commander remained standing. 

Red snorted, as if miffed by his lack of his attention, so Shiro projected his apologies and began to lead Sendak toward the opposite end of the canyon. 

“The rendezvous point is less than a hundred ticks away,” he announced, taking a moment to check the data on his wrist panel. “If you’re as strong as you keep professing, you should have no trouble getting there.”

From his thigh holster, Sendak produced a hand-blaster. “Then go. Meet up with Haxus and come back for me. I’ll hold them off.”

Shiro never stopped walking, even as he scoffed, “You are a commander, not an army.”

“I was not asking your permission, _prisoner._ ”

“Good, because I wasn’t giving it.” Shiro’s tone lightened and sounded fond. “I’m not leaving you.”

Blasts echoed behind them; the advancing forces were trying to blow through the rock barrier. 

“You have no choice,” Sendak conceded, and he, too, spoke in soft, gentle tones that betrayed their roles of captor and captive. “Will your brother forgive you if you do not return to your home world?”

Shiro’s heart ached at the inconceivable thought and quickly banished it from his mind. “No – but he’ll want me to look him in the eyes, and I won’t be able to if I leave you here to die.”

Sendak gripped Shiro’s body tightened; his claws dug into Shiro’s shoulder, eliciting a whimpered grunt from him. The searing pain slowed but did not halt Shiro. He refused to let it.

“Stop it,” Shiro snapped. “No matter what you do, I’m getting you out of here.”

“You are weak.”

Shiro managed to gasp, “Strong enough to carry you.”

Sendak laughed – a truly amused sound. “You will be the death of me, Shiro.”

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”

A surprised growl, sharp and commanding, drew Shiro’s attention from the canyon’s dark path, and he turned toward a small alcove in the rock wall. If not for the warriors behind them, Shiro would have used the intimate shelter for the night, but the blasts grew in intensity, breaking the boulders into pebbles. It wouldn’t be long until the warriors reached them. 

So when the Red Lion grew suspiciously quiet and red and purple markings suddenly glowed upon the alcove’s wall, Shiro blinked in surprise and alarm. Was this Red’s doing? 

The indicate symbols clutched Shiro’s very soul, narrowing his eyes and clearing his thoughts. He read the story the ancient natives must have crafted for him with multiple circles of red fire sporting what appeared to triangles and flames – a worm hole – carved into the hard surface. From it sprung a lion – sleek and agile, fierce and unrelenting – battling alongside its pride against an unfathomable power. The artisans had crafted the Red Lion – or the lion he assumed to be Red – with incredible detail – blocked, sunken eyes, a slender but sturdy frame, followed by a lashing tail. 

Next to Red, the native had craved four more lions, but they were quick representations, animalistic in nature with only one sporting a mane. The positioning of the lions particularly fascinated Shiro. The maned lion took the center spot – and glowed an alluring purple hue – while the Red Lion sat to its left – Shiro’s right. Shiro blinked, focusing on that center lion as it called to him, that unknown energy surging through Shiro’s body once more. 

Still, the Red Lion remained silent, and Shiro stood, transfixed, at the shimmering symbol of a five-point flame with a sword rising from the very center. It was familiar in a comforting way, but something was remiss. It wasn’t quite…right, and Shiro wasn’t sure why. 

The large space in the middle of the symbol mirrored a doorway, and the symbol’s pulsating light drew Shiro like a beckon. 

“We are to enter there,” Sendak spat, and well…duh. 

Shiro placed his hand upon his thigh and drew his blaster once more, firing through the rock wall. It broke rather easily, revealing a hidden corridor plunged in darkness. Shiro needed no incentive; he maneuvered Sendak through the opening first and then dragged the commander through the dark, all-consuming void with only iridescent red and purple symbols of flames and stars to lead the way. 

Shiro gasped while Sendak simply tensed against his shoulder when the corridor led to a massive cavern that suddenly illuminated with red flame light. Similar pictures from the corridor and canyon decorated this grand hall while a waterfall of lava – from where, Shiro couldn’t even guess – slid down the cavern’s back wall and dove into a pool of hot magma. It reminded Shiro very much of a water bowl he’d put out for a pet.

But he couldn’t dwell upon that as right in the center of the room sat said pet – a large, mystical red lioness, one of the two mystical beings who had accosted his thoughts and feelings for months now. 

The Red Lion of Voltron. 

She appeared just how Shiro always thought would – lithe and sleek, a fighter who would battle with poise and grace. She couldn’t overwhelm an opponent, but she would certainly take him down with her cunning and relentless will. Red was the very embodiment of ferocity, ready to strike at the smallest insinuation, ready to fight for those she called hers. 

Part of Shiro wanted to collapse under her stringent glare. She appeared to be condemning him for taking so long to reach her, even though her gray eyes were dark and unapproachable. At the same time, she gave off an aloof air – distant and stubborn. She wouldn’t let just any pilot become her paladin, and she wouldn’t allow Shiro to, without proving his worth. 

Shiro barely noticed Sendak against his side, though the commander still clung to his shoulders to stay erect. Sendak had gone silent, as if utterly overwhelmed by the entire situation with his mouth agape and eyes wide. Perhaps it was one thing to hear about the most powerful weapon in the universe, but it was another thing entirely to observe it with one’s own eyes. 

Even though she no longer roared in his mind, Shiro felt drawn to Red on a visceral level. He couldn’t not go to her, so even though Sendak hissed and made a grunt of disapproval, Shiro situated the commander against a rather large boulder. Then, he pulled off his helmet, ignoring Sendak’s growled protest, and let it fall from his fingers as he stumbled toward the Red Lion as if in a trance. 

A particle barrier surrounded the lion, keeping Shiro from completely reaching her, but tentatively, hesitantly, he lifted his hand toward her. The Galra supplied him with cut-off gloves, so his warm fingers pressed against the glowing barrier, allowing her to invade his mind.

The visions came swiftly, overwhelmingly, as a surge of power ignited his veins. Voltron was a robot – a giant, incredible robot – the universe’s most powerful weapon, and Red made up its right arm. 

Shiro let out a howl of surprise and pain as the Red Lion forcibly searched his memories for the one she sought. Even though Shiro knew the Red Lion wasn’t the other half of his soul – not like the other lion – he now knew for certain Sendak was right. He wasn’t the Red Paladin. Instead, the Red Lion called to him, so she could claim the other half of her soul, the one she had been waiting ten thousand years to find. 

As the memories passed before his eyes – no, were torn from his mind – Shiro let out a strangled scream, the pain so intense and sharp he couldn’t articulate it. He fell to his knees, hands clenching on the sides of his head as the sights stabilized and began to flash with one familiar person. 

_“Keith…”_ Shiro murmured, realization dawning as he blinked limply and panted softly to gain his bearings. 

The Red Lion chose Keith as her paladin. 

“The Red Paladin has always shared a special bond with the leader of Voltron,” Sendak reiterated from behind Shiro. “The Red Lion forms the right arm of Voltron and therefore, must be in sync completely and utterly with the Black Lion, the decisive head.”

Shiro stumbled, even on his knees, at the very mention of the Black Lion. Even without meeting him, Shiro knew the Black Lion was his partner, its soul tethered to his own. 

“It is the reason Lord Zarkon seeks universal dominance,” Sendak explained, awe-struck and somber. “He seeks revenge for the original Red Paladin’s death, and once we reclaim all five lions, he will have it.”

 _No!_ Red roared then, menacing and defiant. She would not be used in Zarkon’s malevolent plan. Her former paladin would never have stood for such atrocities, and neither will she. And she absolutely loathed that her former paladin’s memory was being used to justify ten thousand years of devastation and destruction. Even more than that, she hated herself for failing her paladin. 

She wouldn’t again.

The solemn vow rang true, though Shiro couldn’t embrace it. He wouldn’t allow himself to entertain the thought of Keith becoming a Paladin of Voltron. In his private thoughts, he always hoped he would return to Earth and crash at the desert cabin for a year or five while Keith finished his Garrison training. Then, maybe after he’d slept for more thirty minutes straight, then Shiro would help beef up Earth’s defenses – oh, yeah. And attend daily therapy sessions because he wouldn’t walk away from this unscathed – physically or mentally. 

Shiro never imagined in any thought processes that Keith would become part of his personal rebellion against the Galra. He never wanted Keith to know what happened to him. He never wanted Keith to know horrors like the Galra Empire existed, even though that was impossible since Keith was Galra and had somehow – thank every and all powers in the universe – escaped its evil clutches. 

Shiro only wanted to keep his little brother safe, which was why he knew none of that would ever happen. Perhaps he would escape the Galra Empire one day. Perhaps he would even return to Earth, but he would fight the Galra. He couldn’t allow it to continue its malevolent reign. He would fight to stop it because someone had to. 

And because it could never, ever be allowed to reclaim Keith. Shiro would die before he let it. 

“The particle barrier hasn’t dropped,” Sendak interjected, stealing Shiro back from his thoughts. “You are not the Red Paladin – or at least, you are not worthy of the Red Lion’s attention just yet.”

Exhaustion infiltrated his voice, and Shiro turned to find Sendak leaning forward, his face twisted with agony, his shoulder a bloody, burned mess. In his good hand, he held a communication device, which he activated. 

“Haxus, we have found the Red Lion. Come to our coordinates now to retrieve it.”

Even though she didn’t move, Shiro felt the lion’s distress. She’d been the first lioness hidden all those years ago, sent away when her paladin was killed, and she wouldn’t allow Zarkon to use her to further his agenda of misery and hatred. Now that she had chosen another paladin, she would meet him. She would fly with him, and nothing would stand in her way from finding the one she claimed, especially the Galra Empire. 

Though his soul bled at the thought, Shiro put a hand to his thigh and called for his blaster. He pointed it directly upon the startled Sendak. 

“I won’t let the Galra Empire get this lion.”

After the momentary shock wore off, Sendak looked pleased, despite the pain muting his features. “You are worthy of the title Champion. Even when you have no chance of victory, you still fight. That is admirable.”

Shiro didn’t know how to respond and certainly didn’t like the jolt of warmth that rushed through his being at Sendak’s praise. “I will help you to the rendezvous point. After that – ”

“You will fight an entire fleet with one blaster?” Sendak laughed sardonically. “You are foolish. I will claim this lion for Lord Zarkon, and then – ”

A vicious roar tore through the canyon, echoing off the walls and drowning out Sendak’s tirade. It took Shiro a moment to realize this time, it wasn’t in his head. The Red Lion actually spoke. 

A shadow fell upon Shiro, and wide-eyed, he swung to see the Red Lion up on her paws, stalking over him and lowering her head to separate him from Sendak. Shiro heard the energizing of a cannon, and he reacted without thinking, running underneath her jaws and throwing himself in front of Sendak. 

“It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. I won’t let him,” Shiro vowed, though he wasn’t sure how to keep that promise. How could defeat Sendak’s entire fleet with nothing more than one weapon?

Red kept her head bowed, but it cocked to the side as if surveying him. Then she sniffed once, twice, as if searching for the scent perhaps Keith had left on him more than a year ago. No doubt, Sendak had covered it, but Red seemed to find whatever she was looking for. 

She lunged. 

Shiro let out a surprised grunt as Red shoved the bump of her snout into Shiro’s belly, and then with a flick of her head, sent him flying into the air. Before he could even breathe, she devoured him with her massive jaws. He let out a yelp and a grunt as he rolled down the Red Lion’s mouth, tumbling until he slammed against the awaiting chair. 

_Keith’s chair,_ and it suited his brother, the seat just a tad too narrow and too low for Shiro himself, and he hated to think Keith would be pulled into this war. Why couldn’t the kid just live his life out safely on Earth like the other seven billion people who lived there? 

The chair slid to the front of a cockpit, the small compartment all sleek and shimmering with silver and red touches. When he grabbed the two control handles and placed his feet on the pedals, the viewer screen came alive. The red glow sunk into a light purple color, the same color of the Galra Empire and the same color of Keith’s eyes. 

The Red Lion purred, if not overjoyed then at least content, and Shiro’s mind hummed in anticipation. He wasn’t sure exactly what the lion was saying, only that he needed to hold on, and as a pilot, that wracked his nerves. He craved control, but there was nothing he could do as the lion’s thrusters propelled them toward the cavern’s roof. 

“Hey, hey, hey – Red!”

The Red Lion bowed her head to protect her pilot before slamming her back against the roof of the cavern, breaking through the centuries’ thick rock. As it came crashing down, Shiro jerked at the controls. 

“We have to save Sendak!”

The Red Lion disagreed with a terse snarl. 

“I owe him –” And he thought of Sendak as almost...a friend. “—and we’re not executioners, Red. We can’t be. We have to the good guys, or we’re no better than the Galra.”

Red huffed, and Shiro couldn’t help but smile as she swooped down to block Sendak from the falling debris with her massive body. She didn’t want to do it but did because Shiro asked her to. She reminded Shiro so much of Keith that it physically hurt. How he missed his little brother, but maybe – maybe he would see Keith again soon. 

Once the dust cleared and the remaining ceiling stabilized, the Red Lion took off, its thrusters rocketing the warship into space. And it was a warship, Shiro saw, eyes sweeping across the brightly lit console. The Red Lion was so high-tech and impressive, Shiro wanted to take control and shoot to the stars, but the lion couldn’t tell him how. Or _wouldn’t_ tell him how. Shiro was simply along for the ride – but what a ride. His breath gone, eyes blown wide, hope stirred deep in his chest – he let out a howling cheer. 

This was what he’d trained for all those years at the Garrison. 

Thoughts of Matt and Sam broke through his glee, and though he didn’t want to leave them, he had no choice. He couldn’t deliver one of the key parts – the literal right arm – of the universe’s greatest weapon to its greatest enemy. The Holts would understand. At least he hoped they would, and once he found the rest of the Voltron, he’d come back for them. 

Shiro blinked. When did he decide to find the other four lions? How would he even go about doing that? 

No, no. That wasn’t the priority. His first priority was to get the hell out of the system, and as an alarm sounded throughout the cockpit, flashing red and angry, a smaller picture popped upon his viewer screen of a battleship, Sendak’s battleship to be exact. 

“It’s locked upon us, Red?” Shiro gripped the handles, wringing them as he took a few shallow breaths. Okay, time to put all those hours of training to use. “Any way we can avoid them?”

Red answered him with a barrel roll, sweeping across the planet’s atmosphere and narrowly missing the single shot, a warning shot most likely, from the battleship. She responded by hitting on her thrusters and zooming farther into space. 

The Red Lion was more sophisticated, more technologically advanced, than anything the Garrison had built, but he could navigate for Red or man the weapons if the lion allowed him. But she didn’t. Instead, Red just growled in the back of his mind as another shot whizzed by her flank. And they wouldn’t get a third warning. The next one would shoot to kill or at least maim. 

Before Red could complete another roll or find a place to hide, two Galra cruisers exited hyper-jump in front of her. 

“Let me take control,” Shiro offered, hands gripping the handles. “I’m a trained fighter pilot. Perhaps we can try to – ”

Red snarled at him – he wasn’t her pilot.

“I know, but I’m all you’ve got.”

She relented with a hiss, and then the handles loosened from auto-pilot, Red granting Shiro the command _of her._ This wasn’t just a lifeless spacecraft. It was also a mystical being. 

The Garrison missed a few things in their curriculum, but that was okay. Shiro knew how to improvise. 

“All right, girl. Let’s do this.”

Red purred. 

When the ion cannon behind them began to glow a venomous purple, Shiro jerked the controls to the side, and then hit the thrusters – or so he thought. Instead, the warship practically laid on its side, revealing its stomach to the Galra battleships like a lazy cat who wanted to be scratched. 

“You could help me here, y’know,” he muttered, but then Red cried out in pain. An ion cannon pulse sent them plummeting toward the desert planet’s surface. On instinct, Shiro shouted and tugged up on the controls, righting Red, but fighter pilots already swarmed around them. 

His eyes skimmed the console looking for something, anything to help. He felt this should be easier, instinct and knowledge combining to make them the ultimate weapon, but all he received were guttural growls of pain and anger as the fighters hit them with laser beam after laser beam. _Them._ Shiro might not have been Red’s paladin, but he felt her struggles. 

Shiro tried to hit the thrusters to no avail once more. Lasers, heat vision, maybe even claws – _anything_ – he couldn’t get Red to tell him, or maybe she refused to tell him. Or maybe…maybe she couldn’t because he wasn’t her paladin?

An undercurrent of excitement tugged and plummeted in Shiro’s stomach, and he clenched Red’s controls tighter. A cold, refreshing sensation swept through his body – from the tip of his hair lock down to his toes – and then it warmed and grew in the pit of his stomach. A restless power crawled under his skin, wanting to be released, a pressure he’d never known, but he couldn’t let go. Something restrained him, and before he could make sense of it, the alarms went off again. Another shot from the ion cannon sent Red slamming to the surface, and even without the warnings on the viewer screen, Shiro knew the lion couldn’t take another hit like that. 

Shiro hunched over his chair, pressing his forehead against the console. Red hissed and snarled, wanting to fight, and Shiro wanted to, too. But there was no instruction manual to help him battle the Galra with Red, and without paladin and lion in sync, they would surely fail. He couldn’t risk it. Other than wanting to safeguard the lion, Shiro couldn’t risk his brother’s soul. Red needed to survive, even if Shiro didn’t, and she would if Shiro surrendered. 

Squeezing his fists together, Shiro let out a deep sigh before petting the ironically cool console. “It’ll be all right, Red. Once I’m on the outside, put up your particle barrier and wait.” He forced the words from his suddenly heavy jaw, though he regretted them even before spoke. “Keith will find you.”

Maybe one day, he’d find Black. 

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no flashback to Keith and Shiro this chapter, but next chapter is an interlude to the VLD Season One storyline with the bros. So hopefully yay!


	9. Interlude - Halfsies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot development? Check! Needless fluff? Check! Check!

The afternoon had been scheduled to be uneventful. The Paladins of New trained day in and day out, getting the handle of Voltron and their lions, and Allura gave them the late afternoon and evening off as a reward. They’d be getting off Arus in a matter of days, and while Allura and Coran were going to read over the original scans the castle took when the paladins first arrived and any medical data they collected, she told the team to enjoy each other’s company. 

“Getting to know one another better will help you form Voltron!” Coran added before they left. 

It never occurred to Shiro that they would discover Keith’s true physiology – until Allura stumbled into the communal area of the living quarters, eyes wide, mouth agape. Tears shimmered on her cheeks, but they looked like happy tears when paired with the almost giddy smile upon her shocked face.

Keith had his back to her, sitting directly across from Shiro in a game of “Would You Rather” and trying to explain why he would rather run naked through a snowstorm than have been a cargo pilot – much to Lance’s dismay – so Keith never saw Allura approach. 

Then it occurred to Shiro – the scans and data, any medical reports – the Alteans must have found out Keith was Galra. 

“Hey, Allura, are you all right?” Hunk asked, already starting to his feet. “It looks like you’ve eaten some of Lance’s cooking.”

Coran entered a moment later, obviously stricken but handling it better, and Shiro’s protective instincts took over. “Guys, why don’t you start making dinner, huh? I think Allura and Coran want to talk to me.”

“No,” Allura murmured, shaking her head vehemently. “We need to speak with – ”

 _“ – me,”_ Shiro insisted, getting to his feet. “Hunk, supervise, will you? And it sounds like Lance should be restricted to stirring, and if possible, don’t let Keith near any pans.”

“That was one time!” Keith insisted, to which Shiro laughed. 

“It was boxed mac and cheese. You just had to put in milk and powdered cheese.”

To that, Keith had no reply, so he grumbled something unintelligent and followed after the others. Hunk was the last to leave, shooting Shiro one last concerned glance, as if to ask, _You okay? Do you need me?_

Shiro waved him off with a tiny smile, and though he felt no joy, it must have been enough to convince Hunk. He left a moment later. 

By then, Allura managed to gather herself, her chin once more raised in that elegant manner, those mesmerizing eyes glowing with righteous fury. “I needed to speak with Keith, not you.”

“And you wanted to bring up his Galra physiology, which is a sore point for him,” Shiro said evenly. “Look, I understand that it might cause you some distress, but Keith is worthy of the Red – ”

“Shiro, you – you believe I came to dismiss Keith as the Red Paladin because he’s half-Galra?” Allura sounded offended. “Even if I had reservations – which I do not – it is not in my ability to do so. The Red Lion chooses her paladin. I have no say.”

Well, that was a relief. Shiro had been a tad bit uncertain about that part, but Keith was born to be the Red Paladin. He couldn’t imagine how Keith would feel if Allura denied him the Red Lion, but if that wasn’t the case… “Then what did you want to speak with Keith – ”

Allura shared a quick glance with Coran, who turned to Shiro with a surprised expression. “You mustn’t know,” he said carefully, almost apologetically to Shiro.

The anxiety returned full force. “Keith is a shapeshifting Galra. What more is there to know?”

Allura pursed her lips, hesitant in a way he hadn’t seen her since Sendak was rushing toward Arus. But she quickly bridged the space between them, hands reaching for his. “Shiro, Galra can’t shift. That’s only something Alteans can do, and not even all Alteans. It is a skill only the royal family mastered.”

She couldn’t possibly mean – There was absolutely no way – 

“Keith is half-Galra, Shiro…and half-Altean. And that half is also from the royal bloodline.”

Shiro paused, though Allura squeezed his hands, painfully strong as she blathered excitedly, “I must speak with Keith immediately. There must be other Alteans out there. There may be whole worlds of Alteans we haven’t found."

It was selfish, Shiro knew. Selfish and stupid and a million other useless and potentially dangerous emotions that would no doubt lead to emotional if not physical ruin, but Shiro didn't care about that. In that one moment, he saw the greatest relationship he'd ever held slipping away, and he reacted on instinct. 

"Alllura, you can't." He snatched her wrist when she passed in front of him. "Keith doesn't know anything about his heritage. He was left on Earth as a child. Drudging up his past will only hurt him."

"And dismissing it completely may have disastrous ramifications." Her usual reserved eyes trembled, and her hands gripped his in a wordless plea. "There could be generations of Alteans who have been enslaved by the Galra. We have to free them."

"And Keith will help with that as the Red Paladin, but he can't give you any information about the Alteans."

Allura took a long, bracing breath. "Shiro, I understand you have emotional ties to Keith that are familial in nature, but this is not something we can simply dismiss. Keith's existence proves that he – "

" – knows nothing about his past."

" – perhaps hasn't told you everything he does."

Shiro blinked, disbelief plaguing him with doubt and regret. Of course there were things Keith never told him about his past, little things like his parents' names and where he'd live before Earth. But they'd talked about the Galra before Kerberos, and never had Keith mentioned the Alteans. Keith would have told him about that part of himself...wouldn't he?

Shiro dismissed the thought immediately. Keith would have mentioned it in passing or at least confided in him after Allura announced her origins if in fact he had known about his other half –

Or perhaps not. Keith never actually wanted to reveal his Galra make up to Shiro and had done so unconsciously. He kept his past secret, only allowing Shiro to hear bits and pieces, and Shiro never pushed. He understood the necessity to never reveal the pains of the past – his own life proved that fact – but now he wondered just how little Keith had told him. 

To live with someone and care for them as much as Shiro cared for Keith – it was unnerving to be so close but perhaps not actually know Keith or what had happened to him. 

Shiro shuttered to think Keith might have felt the same way about him.

But if Keith didn't tell him, then he certainly didn't want to speak about it – not with him or Allura. 

Shiro sighed and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. "Allura, please. We're still getting used to this new situation, and Keith doesn’t adjust to change well. If he runs off, we won't be able to form Voltron."

"And if he runs off, you'll follow him," she accused.

He didn't reply, which was an answer in and of itself.

Allura's shoulders slumped in a defeated manner. He'd touched her sore point – as leader of the Voltron Alliance, she needed him and Keith here. And there were no easy replacements. She had said so herself. The Lions chose them to be paladins and wouldn't allow others to bond with them. 

She needed Keith and him, plain and simple.

Allura opened her mouth to retort, but Coran silenced her with a hand upon her shoulder. "Pesky secrets have a way of being revealed at the most inopportune times. Best to speak of the unspeakable sooner rather than later."

Coran then led Allura away, muttering in an encouraging tone, but hours later, Allura's words still haunted Shiro. It never mattered to Shiro what Keith hadn't told him, but now with the fate of the universe in the balance, he wondered just how much Keith trusted him – as both a leader and his brother. 

It worked in reverse, too, so when Keith came to find him after dinner to spar, Shiro accepted. They went a few rounds, Shiro moving through the motions rather than actively attacking when Keith finally spat, "Hey. You think you might give me your full attention sometime today."

Shiro blinked and blocked Keith's swipe with his glowing fist. "Hm?"

"What did Allura want to talk to you about?"

That fear seized Shiro again, but instead of freezing, he lunged, meeting Keith swipe for swipe. It felt like old times at the garrison, going rounds on Sunday mornings, and like then, Shiro won easily, knocking Keith’s sword away and sending the younger man crashing to the ground. Eight years and fifty pounds certainly helped.

Keith initially struggled, trying to unseat the heavy Shiro now straddling him, but eventually gave up with a panted, “I hate you."

Other than when Shiro was heading into space, they never spoke about their time prior to the garrison. It was like it didn't exist. Shiro was Japanese and took the garrison entrance exam at twelve. Keith was Korean – and Galra – and now Altean. That was all they needed to know – until today.

"My parents left me at a hospital when I was still an infant. I don't even remember them."

Keith blinked, taken back with his mouth agape, and that pained expression struck Shiro harder than any punch. He slowly climbed off Keith and settled against the back wall, as Keith pushed up onto his elbows, shocked and horrified.

Shiro closed his eyes, so he didn't have to see that expression again. "I grew up in an orphanage in Yokohama and moved around depending on homes and families. I-I never really had anyone I could count on until I met you."

He had been friendly with the other kids, but he quickly learned not to get too close. Many were adopted or placed into homes, and every time he returned, a new set replaced his old friends. He never enjoyed life as a whole until he joined the garrison and the same group of people occupied his classes year after year.

And he wasn't close with anyone to understand what family meant until he met Keith.

He snorted. It really didn't matter, did it? Keith had been there for him since, so the past and his knowledge of it were irrelevant. All that mattered was the here and now, and Keith cared to sit next to him in quiet comfort, like the dutiful younger brother he was. 

Shiro broke their silence, as per usual. "You don't have to tell me anything about your past, but if you ever wanted to, I'd listen."

And he'd planned to leave it at that. Keith wasn't one to share, but Shiro just wanted his little brother to know he would listen if he ever wanted to confide in him. 

Not that Keith would. And that was okay. That was Keith, and Shiro accepted him as such. 

"My dad was a Galra captain, or officer or something, and I never met my mom," a soft voice skirted on the edge of Shiro's hearing. "I don't even know why my dad left me on Earth, only that he did.” 

Shiro fought back the tears of relief – Keith wouldn't appreciate that – and instead, drew his brother close with an arm around Keith’s shoulders.

Keith rubbed his head against Shiro to spread his scent, to claim Shiro as a member of his family once more. "But...I am glad he did...y'know? ‘Cause if not – " _I would never have met you._

"I’m grateful, too," Shiro replied with a warm and true smile, and Keith seemed to soak it in, melting against Shiro’s side in a lazy, content manner. 

They stayed like that for a long time.

_To Be Continued…_


	10. It's Not the Fall...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit a warning for the rest of the story – Now that the Red Lion is in Galra custody, the story delves even deeper into Shiro’s fall and how he becomes a part of the empire. There’s graphic violence, including emotional and physical torture (nothing of a sexual nature, however), but it’s going to get rough before it gets better. I still hope you stick with me and enjoy!
> 
> Also, a note from my muse, Kirby – This story was highly inspired by Shawn Mendes’s [“Mercy”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkGVmN68ByU). Thanks!

_Pre-Kerberos_

“A what?” 

“A road trip,” Shiro repeated with a little more excitement. “It’s an American tradition, Keith.”

“You’re Japanese. I’m Korean.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Shiro mused, sitting cross-legged on his chair by his desk, his quarters and all its contents grounded by artificial gravity. "But don't you think it would be fun? You, me, and the 867 miles from Houston back to the garrison's main base."

"We have ships that can get you that distance in less than ten minutes," Keith mumbled, fidgeting with his cut-off gloves. (Iverson must have pulled Keith from defense training for the call.) 

"I'll have been on the shuttle for more than six months. It'll be nice to take to the road and cut loose."

"You love space. You love flying."

"Well, yeah, but this will be a new adventure."

Keith’s voice was incredulous. "You'll just have come back from Kerberos, the farthest any human has ever traveled, and you think _driving_ from Houston to Santa Fe will be an adventure?" 

"Yeah, it’ll be with you."

Keith froze, showing Shiro that vulnerable expression like he couldn't believe Shiro existed at all, let alone wanted to do something so familial with him as a road trip. 

"Come on, kiddo,” Shiro insisted. “We'll rent a car, and we'll stop at the original Six Flags park and pretend the rides are scary. We'll eat at terrible dives. The food will thankfully not be those pees Commander Holt loves – I seriously could go the rest of my life without eating another one – and y'know, we'll just chill. The two of us. What do you say?"

Keith took a shivering breath, smiling a reserved grin that was his version of ecstatic. "All right." 

"Great." Shiro leaned back in his seat, letting out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. It felt like Christmas three years ago when he invited Keith to the cabin for the first time. "So you make the plans, chart the course, pick out places you want to stop by. Since it's less than a thousand miles, we can stretch it out a week or so, maybe spend a day or two somewhere fun."

"Sure, make me do all the planning while you just float around up there," Keith muttered, but his tiny smile betrayed his bitter remarks. 

"Excuse you. I'll have you know I’m super busy up here, what with traveling to the far reaches of the solar system and trying to discover the existence of alien life.”

Keith grew somber again. “You think you’re hysterical, don’t you?”

“Hilarious.”

_Post-Kerberos_

After the sentries plucked Shiro from the planet’s surface and brought him back onto Sendak’s battlecruiser, he was surprised he wasn’t taken immediately to one of the holding cells. Instead, the sentries extorted him to the command deck, where Haxus greeted him with a condemning frown. 

“When Commander Sendak is done with you, I’ll take my shot, at which time I will take your title, _Champion,_ slowly and painfully.” 

Shiro wanted to reply, “It’s all yours,” but he wouldn’t give it up to Haxus that easily. And he wasn’t quite sure he’d live through Sendak’s punishment, whatever it may be. 

The command deck buzzed with excitement and activity, Shiro assumed from the capture of the Red Lion, but would that cause this much commotion? The moment Shiro walked out of its mouth, the Red Lion dropped all resistance and activated her particle barrier. Shiro was forced to watch in horror as two Galra fighters flew to her side and set their tracker beams upon Red, leading her particle-barrier and all to the ship’s hanger. 

Red snarled in his mind, not willing to break their connection if for no other reason than to vent her frustration. Even if he wasn’t _her_ paladin, Shiro was _a_ paladin, and his presence was an outlet for the sorrow she endured the last ten thousand years and her anger now. Shiro wished to soothe Red, but he doubted Sendak would allow him to see her. And he wasn’t sure Red would want to see him. 

With that distressing thought in his mind, Shiro steeled his back and readied to meet with his commanding officer. Upon the upper tier stood Sendak, appearing worse for wear. With his shirt and armor missing, Shiro saw the scars that prevented much of the fur on his chest and arms from re-growing. The firm muscle of Sendak’s left shoulder appeared to be cut by barbed wire, while short but numerous slashes lined the left side of his torso from swords or knives. A distinct pattern of burn marks marched up Sendak’s spine and along his right torso, eventually leading to his newest wound, which now sported bloodied bandages. Apparently, Sendak needed more medical attention, but for now, only patchwork would do. 

Shiro took the three steps up to the command platform and should have fallen to one knee as an apology for running, but Shiro wasn’t sorry. He just wished he’d had a better plan to escape – and maybe would have had control over the Red Lion. If they would have been of one mind and body, they could have attacked those battlecruisers and made it to safety – wherever that would be. Instead, they were both captured and now at the mercy of the Galra Empire.

He needed to regain Sendak’s trust, though that might be impossible. The sentries chained him to the platform’s railing, and one tug on the bonds had him once more accepting the role of prisoner.

“You are a fool,” Sendak began. “I warned you of what would happen if you tried to escape.”

Shiro returned his harsh glare. “You and I both know you won’t kill me. I helped you find the Red Lion, which means I’m a part of Voltron…or one of its paladins, at least. And you have the Red Lion now, so your mission was a success.”

Sendak’s stringent glower was unnerving in its intensity. He seemed to ponder what to do before his lips twisted into a sick, sinister smirk. “One of my missions is to mold you into a weapon for the Galra, and today, you proved you still have not given the empire your allegiance.”

“And it will never get it,” Shiro vowed. “I may on go on missions with you, but I will never be loyal to the Galra Empire.”

“We shall see about that.” Sendak swung toward Haxus, who stood waiting on the bottom stair of the command platform. “Give the order to fire on the planet. I want the capitals decimated in less than eighty ticks, and I expect complete surrender in less than two hundred.”

Shiro’s jaw fell agape. 

Haxus bowed. “Yes, Commander.”

Shiro shook, his body unable to process what his mind caught. “You—You can’t!” Shiro didn’t even recognize his own voice, its tone so raw and wounded. “There are people down there. Innocents. You can’t just—”

“I can do whatever I like, and right now, I wish to demonstrate the true power of the Galra Empire.” 

“You’re insane!” It was a strangled scream, barely rising above a whisper. “You’re willing to kill countless innocents just to prove a point?”

“No, I’m willing to kill countless innocents to secure your loyalty to the Galra Empire.” Sendak’s eyes turned to the three massive viewer screeners above, which showed the battlecruisers and fighters as they moved into attack position. “If you would have already surrendered what little pride you still hold, I would have left this planet unscathed. Now, their deaths will be on your head.”

Shiro’s eyes widened. It made absolutely no sense. None of it. “I’m only one person. A human. I’m not nearly as strong as you or any of the commanders. Why are you doing this? Wouldn’t it just be easier to kill me?”

“If I am right, then you are the key to the universe’s eternal hope – or its utter subjection,” Sendak snapped. “Now, do I have your allegiance?”

What could he possibly do? “I-I don’t understand. You saw I’m not the Red Paladin. The lion wouldn’t tell me how to control her. Whoever it is you’re searching for, you’ve got the wrong person.”

“Do I have your allegiance?” 

Desperate tears wet his face. “Even if I give it to you, I’m telling you – I’m not a weapon. I’m not –”

“Do I have your allegiance?” Sendak roared. 

“Will you listen to me! I’m not who you think I – ”

“Haxus! Tell the ships to –”

Shiro broke then, the answer coming so easily he almost wondered why he hadn’t given it sooner. He fell to his knees, his arms awkwardly hitched up and still attached to the platform’s railing. 

“Yes,” he whispered, head ducked and cheeks glistening. “I pledge my allegiance to the Galra Empire.”

Sendak stepped closer, looming over Shiro’s fallen form. “Say it.”

Couldn’t they allow him at least a scrap of dignity? “No.”

“Say it.”

Shiro felt as if someone reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. “I pledged my allegiance. What more could you possibly – ” 

A furry hand clutched his chin and raised his eyes until he was forced to meet Sendak’s vicious, unrelenting gaze. “Say it, or I will destroy the countless lives of – ”

Shiro’s stomach clenched as his entire body shuttered. He felt as with every word he spoke, he expelled more and more of his soul. “Vrepit sa,” he whispered, broken. 

Sendak dropped Shiro’s chin and pivoted on his heel. “Haxus, command my battlecruisers to fire at will upon the capital cities.”

Shiro’s eyes shot wide as his hands formed trembled fists. “What!”

“I want the planet’s civilizations decimated by dawn.”

“You can’t!” Shiro shrieked, eyes jerking up to the viewer screens before tearing his sight away to beseech Sendak. “You promised if I swore allegiance to the Galra Empire that you’d –”

Haxus bowed and began spewing orders to the other sentries while Sendak turned back to Shiro. “It took you too long to accept your role in the empire, Champion, and I cannot have someone in my fraction who will hesitate.”

“So you’ll destroy entire planet’s population!”

“You won’t hesitate next time, will you?”

Sendak’s evil smile broke Shiro, frightened him to his very core. How could someone order an entire planet’s population killed? And how could they smile as if to say, “I told you so”? How could such an evil exist?

And now Shiro was a part of it? Could he ever be as callous and ruthless as Sendak? That thought sent a violent shiver up his spine, and he clung to one comforting thought – he was a member of Voltron, a paladin, and the Black Lion chose him to fight against the Galra. He wouldn’t have if Shiro wasn’t strong enough, would he?

But what good was being part of the universe’s greatest weapon if Shiro couldn’t save an entire planet of innocent lives? 

Shiro struggled against the chains holding him to the railing, but it didn’t matter. A moment later, massive explosions dominated the viewer screens, and he watched in absolute horror as the battleships fired upon the unsuspecting mountain cities. Buildings tumbled. Dust and debris filled the streets. Fires broke out, sweeping across the landscape and devouring homes and structures. 

Was this really his fault? Because he didn’t swear allegiance to the Galra Empire sooner?

Every shot of an ion cannon, every new explosion struck another blow to Shiro’s heart, and every throb was pure agony. Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks as desperate sobs choked his throat. He dropped to the ground, his arms still chained above him, and despite wanting to look away from the devastation, he forced himself to watch. If he caused this, he shouldn’t be spared the macabre details of the slaughter. 

Something in him – strong and resilient – shattered, and Shiro wasn’t sure he could ever put it together again. 

Despite her anger, the Red Lion tried to connect with him once more, to soothe him, but he pushed her away. He didn’t deserve her comfort or her compassion. He deserved a death far worse than the arena could provide, and Keith’s warnings fluttered through Shiro’s suffering like a premonition. 

_Its witches will interrogate you, torture you, and then break you. And then their commanders will get a hold of you and make you one of them._

Keith had been wrong. The witches, despite their best efforts, couldn’t break him, and yet – Sendak in all his sick glory had managed to do. 

Dazed and detached, Shiro didn’t know how long he simply sat there, back pressed against the railing’s pole, watching as Sendak’s armada annihilated the planet’s major cities. His arms, still chained above his head, had long gone numb and heavy, and a lingering pain settled in his bones. His cheeks felt cold and tight from the tears that had dried as he was unable to blink away the constant droplets that welled. 

After he watched one of the largest buildings crumble upon itself, Shiro bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t think about anything other than Keith had warned him about this, and yet – at the time – he’d laughed. 

Something shifted next to him, and Shiro lifted his red-rimmed eyes briefly to see Sendak. Despite the ongoing invasion, the commander managed to receive medical attention, and now a metal plate clamped his shoulder and torso together. He had pulled on an undershirt but had yet to recollect his armor. 

He sat next to Shiro, knees bent, elbows upon them as he waited. 

Shiro didn’t make him wait long. “How – How could you do this? I saved your life. _Twice,_ just so you could massacre these people?”

“Yes, you did, but I needed your allegiance. And there was no better way to acquire it than to demonstrate the full power of the Galra Empire.”

“That’s not justification for mass murder,” Shiro hissed. 

“The planet was already a part of the Galra Empire,” Sendak said easily. “It should have known better than to attack a member of its armed forces.”

Shiro wished that relieved some of the guilt weighing down his heart. “So you did it to warn other rebellious planets?”

“And to show you that there is no escape. You have no other option but to join the Galra Empire, and if you continue to resist, you will be destroyed.”

“I won’t ever help you again.”

Sendak raised a challenging eyebrow. “Have you heard of Arus? Unlike this pathetic planet, it has no knowledge of the Galra Empire, much like your home world of Earth. But it’s much closer. Would you like to see another demonstration of the Galra Empire’s might? Perhaps I should set a course there next.”

Shiro scowled and didn’t answer. Sendak heard his agreeable response anyway. 

“I still don’t understand,” Shiro whispered, eyes rising again to watch as a whole city block disappeared with one blast of an ion cannon. “Why me?”

Sendak heaved a heavy sigh and let it out slowly. “There is much about yourself you do not know, but I can tell you this. If I am allowed to train you as you should be, you will be our greatest weapon.”

Shiro couldn’t hold back the revulsion that invaded his tone. “I’d rather die.”

Sendak fell silent after that, forcing Shiro to glance at him. His usual sinister face appeared downcast and saddened. “Hm. And once more, I am proven right.”

“About what?”

“It was mercy to kill my brother. Perhaps I should have killed you,” Sendak added quickly, almost as an afterthought, “but I didn’t. And now this is your burden to bear alongside me.”

It was times like these, when Shiro caught a glimpse of Sendak’s true nature, that he wondered just how loyal Zarkon’s second-in-command truly was. “You never answered my question,” Shiro pressed. “Why do you do this? You don’t have to.”

“Because no one came for me,” Sendak admitted, equally as low as Shiro’s plea. “And no one is coming for you, Shiro.”

Shiro still didn’t understand and said as such. 

Sendak released a troubled sigh. “I had hoped others would pick up the fight and help battle the Galra Empire when it attacked my planet. Our allies. An organized rebellion. Perhaps even Voltron. But no one did. Others saw what the Galra did to my planet and then surrendered, so it would not happen to theirs. They allowed my planet to be destroyed and our people massacred, so why should I care what happens to anyone else?”

Shiro’s hands clenched in shaking fists. “Because it’s wrong. Just because it happened to you doesn’t means it should happen to others. I won’t let what happened to your planet happen to mine.” 

“A futile mission,” Sendak dismissed with a scoff. “You are a prisoner of the Galra and now have pledged your allegiance to it. Accept your place.” 

“I will do what I have to save others, but you cannot make me –”

“I can make you do whatever I want and when, or your former commanding officer will be killed.” Sendak rubbed his hands together and lowered his legs to cross them at the ankles. “The young boy you came with – I looked into his status, and he has even a worse sentence than you. Haggar took an interest in him. He is with the Druids now.” 

_No…_

“No one is coming to save you, Shiro,” Sendak continued softly, almost as if trying to soothe, “and if you continue to believe you can stop the Galra, you’ll do nothing but harm yourself and those you wish to save.”

Shiro blinked, too much information, too much heartache all at once. His head spun, and his chest throbbed, and he simply listened to the verbal torture Sendak continued to inflict upon him. 

“You will lose. As a Paladin of Voltron, you will be tortured by Lord Zarkon himself until you release the identity of the other paladins, especially the Red Paladin, and then he will either throw you back into the games or simply kill you.” 

Shiro wouldn’t let that happen. 

“It won’t be hard to provide the information. You know the Red Paladin well, don’t you? He’s on your home planet.”

How could Sendak possibly know that?

“Years ago, Thace led a scouting mission for General Prorock to your planet’s sector. Thace’s young son was lost within the first few explorations. If he were to have survived, he would be just under two cycles.” 

Two cycles – would that be decades? 

“I always wondered why Thace took the boy on that mission. Soldiers pride themselves on success or death, but not children. We know the force of the Galra Empire can only be sustained by the continued procreation of our finest soldiers, and the boy would have grown to be a fierce warrior. Thace was foolish to believe the boy could survive a mission at less than a cycle old.” 

Shiro’s voice scraped his throat raw, leaving him grating and bleeding. “I won’t confirm what you’re asking me.“

Sendak laughed, dry and softly. “The Red Lion woke less than two cycles ago. You carried Thace’s scent when you were first captured by the empire. You come from the sector where Thace lost his son. I do not need confirmation.

“The one you call your _brother,_ Thace’s son, is the Red Paladin.”

A desperation unlike any Shiro had felt before seized his entire being, and his trembling eyes snapped to the solemn Sendak. “Will you tell Zarkon?” 

He stopped breathing, and his body flushed numb. His entire world stopped until Sendak spoke again. “I have no need to. You will – after he tortures you. Success or death. Either you will give him the names of the other paladins, or he will kill you. And whatever hope you have of saving your brother and defeating the Galra Empire will be destroyed.”

They sat there, on the command deck, stricken by horror as they watched the cities of the nearby planet crumble one after another. Shiro eventually leaned forward on the bonds, eyes slipping closed, tears shimmering down his cheeks and pooling upon the ground in front of him. He wept for the innocent people of the planet he helped invaded. He wept for Keith, who had no idea the Galra would be after him, and he wept for Red, whose lifeforce hummed in the back of his mind, fiery and angry at him and the Galra. 

He wept for himself, praying he would be strong enough to save his brother and end the Galra Empire. And if he couldn’t, then maybe the Voltron Paladins would be able to save the universe where he could not. 

Sendak let him sob without a word of encouragement or condemnation, and for that, Shiro was grateful. 

_To Be Continued..._


	11. The Black Paladin(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: (Lion snuggles and) gore

_Post-Kerberos_

Shiro swallowed down the bile, though he couldn’t keep the disgust from his face, as he stepped out of the battleship’s hanger and back onto the planet’s surface. Sendak chose not to cuff him, instead just ordering Haxus to watch him, and they once more make their way through the cactus forest and into the red rock canyon that once housed Red. 

“Criminals always return to the scene of the crime,” Shiro muttered before Haxus jabbed him in the side with the butt of his blaster. 

“What was that, prisoner?”

Shiro shrugged. “Just a saying from my planet.”

“Hm…it must be interesting, this…Earth, you called it?” 

Shiro hated when the Galra spoke about his home world, assessing if it were worth the energy, time, and ultimately expenditure, to conquer. 

“Your people knew nothing about the Galra Empire or alien life, did they?” Haxus pressed. “I bet you would have liked to have remained that way.”

Shiro sighed, not denying it. “What are we doing back here? You retrieved the Red Lion for Zarkon. What more is there to discover down here?” It unnerved him to be walking on the planet he invaded and watched the Galra obliterate less than three days ago. 

In front of him, Sendak barely glanced back when replying, “Lord Zarkon wishes to see where the Red Lion lived for more than ten thousand years. He believes the site may hold clues to the whereabouts of the other lions and even the Red Paladin himself.”

Shiro noted how Sendak didn’t mention his knowledge of who the Red Paladin was, and for some reason, Shiro knew he wouldn’t. He trusted Sendak with Keith’s identity – not that he had a choice – but he wondered why Sendak wouldn’t tell Zarkon, with whom he shared a deep admiration, if not affection. Was Sendak perhaps not as loyal to Zarkon as Shiro originally believed? Or did Sendak just like having something over Shiro’s head to ensure _his_ loyalty? 

In any case, Shiro appreciated his silence. 

That mystical, supernatural energy returned full-force the moment Shiro stepped inside the canyon. Neither Sendak nor Haxus seemed to notice, but Shiro could barely breathe from the onslaught of it. Though a quiet sorrow enveloped the entire planet, a wicked wind wound through the curves of the canyon, heady and sure. It brushed across Shiro’s face and ruffled his hair, and it urged him onward. Its power thrummed, and anticipation seeped into Shiro’s soul as he sucked in ragged breaths in attempt to simply breathe. 

But Red was gone now, growling on the edge of his hearing, loathing to be kept away from her paladin and in the hands of the enemy. So what was causing all this energy? In fact, it was even more heavy than before, threatening to choke him in its tantalizing embrace.

The red and purple drawings on the rock corridor once more glowed when Shiro arrived, leading the small party down to the now open cavern where the Red Lion had once lived. Shiro staggered along, barely hearing Haxus’s concerned – Haxus was _concerned?_ – inquiries when he stepped into the cavern once more and a thunderous roar of a lion drowned out all noise and thought. Shiro found himself shaken to his core, staring at the imposing figure in the center of the cavern. 

The dark figure stood over the emblem of the Red Paladin, which ebbed with an iridescent power so strong that the red glow reflected in the man’s silver and black armor. His clawed hands clenched and unclenched, as if attempting to absorb the energy, even though he exuded his own dark, ruthless strength that both lured and repulsed Shiro. It felt a seductive drug, threatening to steal all of Shiro’s resistance with its promises of power and security. 

He would never want for anything ever again, including the safety of his little brother and crew. 

But the lion wouldn’t allow it – the Black Lion, Shiro knew now – as another deafening cry cut through the relative silence of the cavern. The Black Lion clawed at something – a muzzle, a leash – that couldn’t quell his spirit completely but kept him tethered to an unbreakable force.

Strapped to the figure’s right thigh appeared to be weapon of some sort, curved to fit a fist but with a trigger or handle like a blaster. It glowed a brilliant violet hue, like the night horizon just before morning arrived. It was beautiful, captivating, and an eager purr drew Shiro forward, step by step. Then the figure shifted, lifting his cloaked arm to glare down at the weapon. Perhaps he was bewildered or scared, but Shiro’s eyes remained locked upon the weapon’s hilt, steady and true in his conviction. 

The unsettling purrs grew louder, encouraging him, guiding him, and the figure shifted to face Shiro. 

Zarkon. 

The ruler of the known universe stood directly in front of Shiro, and yet, he still walked forward, entranced by the weapon on Zarkon’s hip. His hand lifted, fingers reaching, and violet light filled the cavern. The weapon flew off Zarkon’s side and slid onto Shiro’s hand, fit in Shiro’s hand, like it was created just for him, and then the Black Lion let loose, its magnificent roar resounding through the massive cavern and completing Shiro’s soul. 

From the crevasses and corners of the cavern, shadows rushed Shiro, swallowing him in their darkness. 

Shiro tried to blink, but only the inky black darkness remained, and both the shadows and the sudden silence shook him. What happened to Sendak, Haxus, _Zarkon_?

A flash of glistening, golden hair stole Shiro’s attention, and he saw it was a lion’s tuff. The tail curled about Shiro’s cheek and neck, cradling his head in a gentle and kind embrace, before he followed its teasing caresses to see the jovial lioness. She was broad and strong and tall, her eyes even with his, and their calm gold, shimmering with the rays of the afternoon sun, soothed the chaotic emotions that simmered under his skin. 

As if sensing this, the Yellow Lion rumbled, low and deep before ducking her head and brushing against his neck like a housecat. 

Shiro hardly had a chance to breathe when a second lioness, smaller but more forceful, pressed against his opposite side. His hand dropped to her jade head on reflex and rubbed, eliciting a satisfied little purr. The Green Lion rubbed her head against his hip, and with so much strength packed into her smaller frame, she almost pushed him to the ground. 

An excited pant snagged his attention, and Shiro barely caught the charging Blue Lion, who reared up on her haunches and smacked her front paws upon Shiro’s shoulders. Sinking her claws into his uniform’s jumpsuit, the Blue Lion held him close, her tongue slowly lapping up the sweat on his cheek. He couldn’t stop the laughs from escaping – it tickled! – but she continued undeterred, trailing salvia along his hair and forehead. She only stopped when a slightly smaller being nudged her out of the way and greeted Shiro with a begrudging snarl and huff.

The Red Lion was still angry over her capture, but she refused to break her quintessential bond with Shrio, even going insofar as to coil her body around him, her tail wrapping possessively about his waist. She tugged and turned him until he stood before a monolithic black lion, tall and striking, rising just higher than Shiro’s head. He glared down at Shiro, dark charcoal eyes stern and limitless, and in them, Shiro thought he saw the stars of the universe shimmer. He was majestic, chin raised high, and he was proud, strong, and robust. He was the leader, revered as such, and Shiro found himself gaping. 

After all this time, all these months, did the Black Lion find him lacking? Perhaps the horrors of the arena and now Sendak’s command changed him, making Shiro unworthy of the Black Lion’s respect. 

All his fears fled, though, when Black’s eyes softened – in compassion, in empathy – and then he dipped his snout to press his warm forehead against Shiro’s. He puffed, breath caressing Shiro’s face, and a surge of warmth and affection washed over Shiro. 

Though the Black Lion didn’t speak, his emotions reached Shiro just the same. _You have finally come._

“Yes,” Shiro greeted, fingers sinking into the lion’s thick, velvety mane. “I’m here.”

There was so much to say and ask – where was the Black Lion? He was more than just a mystical manifestation, right? There had to be a physical form, like Red, out there, somewhere – but Black rumbled, though the noise only echoed in Shiro’s soul. The warm sensation soothed Shiro’s wondering tension, and the Black Paladin closed his eyes, basking in the simple truth of his lion’s presence. 

But there was one question needed answered. 

_Why me?_ he asked through their connection, which thrummed steadily on the edge of his thoughts. _Are you sure you want me?_

The Black Lion puffed, jaws clicking as he moved to speak, before a crippling agony tore Shiro from his lion’s serene and comforting embrace. The hell known as reality slammed him to his knees in the middle of the Red Lion’s cavern, and at his side thumped his arm, spattering into a macabre pool of crimson. 

His arm – from just below his shoulder – was _gone_ – along with the Black Bayard, its white casing now stained with blood, held by Shiro’s still warm fingers. 

Shiro heard nothing other than the runaway beating of his heart and the uneven breaths sucked through his clenched teeth. At first he felt nothing, only a warm sensation at the very edge of his now weeping limb and the low shimmering of purple power. 

Perhaps it was the shock of the sudden loss, his brain not being able to process the physical trauma – but then liquid fire raced through his veins, the unbearable pain crippling his body with uncontrollable shudders. He could barely think. He could barely breathe, the blood draining from his arm with faint but somehow reverberating claps upon the floor. 

They’d cut off his arm for daring to touch the Black Bayard. 

“It is done, Your Majesty,” a new voice called, though Shiro could barely hear him as the darkness crept upon the edge of his sight. “The traitor will learn his place.”

Shiro only had enough strength remaining to glance up at the one who took his arm – it wasn’t Sendak or even Haxus but Thace – and that shock coupled with the violet light and the dark crimson dragged Shiro from consciousness.

*^*^*

The air itself was alive, thick with energy and swirling about him with the power of the hurricane, and he was in the eye. Yet – yet Shiro was weak, past the point of exhaustion, as if his very soul slipped into an endless abyss. 

“Prorock’s idiotic subordinate cut Champion’s connection with the lions during transference, letting the quintessence escape its vessel.”

A deep, persistent ache throbbed when Shiro stirred. He moaned and shifted, and immediately regretted it. Pain unlike anything he’d ever known shot through his body, leaving him trembling and gasping, too lethargic to speak. 

“He deserves to suffer his agonizing fate,” a vicious voice proclaimed, and Shiro tensed. He struggled to open his eyes, but they barely fluttered.

“Perhaps, my lord, but he is your only connection to the other lions and the Red Paladin in over ten thousand years.”

Heat swelled in the room, slicking his skin and leaving him feverish. A bitter taste spread from his throat and over his tongue, and he struggled to simply breathe. 

“Do what needs to be done, Haggar.”

“I will need your assistance, my lord – or at least the raw quintessence in your bayard.”

The words faded into oblivion as Shiro slipped closer and closer to the dark abyss again. He drifted in and out of consciousness, unable to focus on anything for a long time before a thunderous roar shook the very core of Shiro’s being. He jerked off the table and struggled against the bonds that held him captive, and a shriek rent the air, echoing the Black Lion’s roar. Everything in the room, including Haggar and – and _Zarkon?_ – drowned in a brilliant violet light. 

His arm – or what was left of it – seared with the burning embers of the sun itself, and Shiro slammed back against the table, chest heaving and still unable to find the air to breathe. His half-lidded eyes barely caught the sight of the Black Bayard – _his_ Black Bayard – held firm in Zarkon’s claws, the last bit of energy fading from his once bleeding and purple stump. 

Zarkon and Haggar had done something to his arm with the bayard, but before he could assess, Shiro drifted off again. 

Zarkon’s ominous words followed him into the darkness. “You will die, but not before I retrieve what is rightfully mine.”

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no Keith scene in this chapter. I actually wrote one, which you can find [here.](http://ptw30.tumblr.com/post/155366685284/deleted-scene-from-the-final-act-of-mercy) Entitled "Long-Distance Call," the scene finds the Kerberos Crew having to deal with a spaceship issue. During edits, I noticed this scene is not really needed. The purpose of it occurs in a later scene, but if you're interested - please enjoy!


	12. Bedside Manners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic Torture
> 
> Also, please note the new rating. I've been debating making this story "mature" from the beginning, and now, I think it's warranted.

_Post-Kerberos_

When Shiro returned to consciousness, he couldn’t stifle the raw moan that escaped his chapped lips, and he immediately wished to return to a peaceful slumber. 

“You think you can be the Black Paladin? You could barely survive a simple transference of quintessence. How can you expect to be able to share a life force with the Black Lion?”

Shiro struggled to crack open his suddenly heavy eyelids and found himself on the receiving end of a rather caustic and frightening glower from Zarkon. 

“You are not worthy of such an advanced and complex weapon.”

Perhaps not, but he knew the Black Lion wasn’t just a machine and shouldn’t be disrespected as such. 

“You are not intelligent enough to understand what he is – what Voltron can be.” Zarkon sounded disgusted, deliberately bitter. “Haggar thoroughly interrogated one of your kind, and she found Earthlings to be abnormally weak and fragile. Perhaps the only part of your kind that is at all of merit is your stubbornness, but that won’t last too long.”

Shiro winced as his stub – or lack thereof – throbbed unnaturally where his arm had been lost. He blinked back the tears that wet his eyes, and even if he had the strength to glance down at what was left of his arm, he wouldn’t have. He didn’t want to see it. 

Zarkon ignored that to rumble, low and threatening, “I wished to kill you and sever any ties you may have with the Black Lion, but Haggar convinced me to keep you alive and even use the Black Bayard to seal your quintessence. You will lead us to the other paladins and lions, and I will finally have Voltron.”

That sounded even worse. He’d rather die than lead Zarkon to the other paladins – to Keith – and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He knew he should have been scared, that at any other time, especially in the arena, he would have been. Zarkon was a menacing figure with a large frame and a power Shiro couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but now – all Shiro felt was unbridled rage, even with the emperor of the universe bearing down upon him. 

“I won’t help you,” he gritted through clenched teeth. 

Zarkon’s face remained impassive, though his expression quickly shifted to unimpressed. “As I said, your stubbornness will only last you so long, Champion, and then you will bring Voltron to me.” 

Zarkon left in a fury of movement, and Shiro tipped his head back against the cool surface underneath him and listened for a defiant roar that never came. 

*^*^*

Life stopped, and time became a meaningless construct. Days, weeks, months – even hours – became foreign to Shiro as he lived through endless torment. 

It began with him strapped to a cold, surgical table, his left wrist and ankles cuffed with a single strap across his chest to keep his shoulders still. Haggar came then, touting her sinister smile and sharp fingernails, which she dragged up his vulnerable neck and cheek. He managed, somehow, to flinch in between shallow gasps, and she laughed at his futile struggles. 

“You are quite a fascinating creature, but you are weak, fragile.” Her fingers raked through his wet strands, unaffected by their sodden nature. “I would love to study your kind further.”

Further? Shiro’s thoughts muddied, the pain and shock of losing his limb and his very soul taking a toll upon his body, but he managed to remember Sendak’s previous conversation. The Druids had taken Matt, so if they weren’t experimenting on him anymore – did that mean they’d killed him? 

Shiro wanted to ask and even managed to open his mouth, but Haggar interrupted him with a quick snap of her hand. “Not yet, Champion. I haven’t given you a question to answer.”

And she didn’t. Instead, purple lightning danced upon her fingers in a horrifying prelude to the agony that would follow, and as she slammed her hands flat against the table, Shiro barely caught his breath before the pain hit. 

He screamed. 

A terribly, bloodcurdling shriek he couldn’t believe came from him rent the room, and his back arched awkwardly and unnaturally. The metal cuffs upon his wrist and ankles held firm, keeping him ruthlessly immobile and forcing him to endure the purple electricity sizzling upon his skin and the unending torture that accompanied it. 

It lasted long after his voice gave out, leaving only a rasping, gurgling sound in his throat. It lasted longer than he could maintain consciousness, and he drifted in and out of reality, returning more drained and weak, and he wished he could savor the sweet release of sleep. But when he awoke, he did so in the midst of that violet, unnatural electricity shocking his body – perhaps bringing him back from death. He couldn’t tell. All he knew was his body writhed and wept, smearing fresh crimson underneath him.

Haggar asked nothing. 

Finally, after what seemed like eternity – and perhaps it was – Haggar left him alone, still strapped to the table, and he simply lay there, defeated and limp. He never quite relaxed, the overwhelming pain never fading completely. He believed he passed out every so often, his body too exhausted and abused to even doze, but without a clock or some time-keeping device, Shiro began to wonder if he imagined that. His stiff muscles could have come from lack of use than from actual rest, and the lingering headache that never seemed to dissipate only lightened because the blinding lamp above the table was now turned off. 

Darkness blanketed his cell, and though he enjoyed the silence, it was broken far too often. And by what, Shiro couldn’t see. A clatter of metal against metal, a shriek much like his own, the faraway sizzle of electricity – who else were they torturing? Perhaps they hadn’t asked him about Keith because they’d already found his brother and were now interrogating him, too?

No. No. They couldn’t have found Keith. Keith was on Earth, safe and sound, and even if Haggar managed to get to Earth, she wouldn’t have been able to find Keith among the Garrison Galaxy crew. And if Haggar performed a miracle and found Keith, she would have brought his little brother directly to Shiro for the next round of punishment.

Unless, of course, he was in one. Were they phasing out all other forms of communication, separating Shiro from any other contact? This way, he would be forced to rely upon Hagger until he was so touched-starved that he would beg for the witch to return, so he wouldn’t be alone.

Never, he promised himself. Never would he surrender completely to the Galra Empire, and eventually Haggar returned. Whether she had gone a few hours or a few weeks, Shiro couldn’t tell, and his brief reprieve from the cruel mechanisms ended. 

Shiro wasn’t sure how many times they went through this awful routine. Feverish, delirious, he wondered if he gave himself a concussion by slamming his head back against table too many times, and he began not to fear falling asleep and never waking up, but instead hoping it would happen. 

What did Haggar want from him? Why didn’t she ever ask him? Was he just a toy to play with, a thing to take out her sadistic frustrations? Or was this all in the name of science?

And the lions – his only source of comfort through his entire time with the Galra – abandoned him, leaving him alone in the vicious clutches of the Galra Empire. Perhaps he was unworthy after he lost his arm and the Black Bayard, or maybe the Black Lion realized he’d made a mistake in choosing Shiro to be the Black Paladin. 

Perhaps they realized a lost cause when they saw one. He wouldn’t survive this, would he? 

Haggar intensified the electricity into Shiro thought blood would spew from his eyes and fire would set his nerves ablaze. He couldn’t hold out and bit down hard into his cheek. A rather vicious snap sent blood flooding his mouth and tore a strangled cry from his throat. 

“ _Why? Why are you doing this?”_

The torture stopped immediately, allowing Shiro to suck in shallow rapid breaths. Through his half-lidded eyes, Shiro shivered when Haggar entered his vision, sporting a rather exhausted but leering expression. 

“Your weak human physiology is quite impressive in its resilience, but ultimately you disappoint me, Champion. I was hoping you’d die first before you surrendered.”

Only the Galra Empire would see death as a metric for strength. 

“Tell me the location of the other lions as well as the identities of their paladins, and I will end your suffering.”

Shiro wished he’d realized Haggar’s plan earlier. Since she knew he wouldn’t just give up the lions and their paladins, the witched tortured him and waited for him to come to her to end it. He was ready for it to end – but probably not the way she expected.

He allowed his eyes to flutter shut and then tipped his head back against the table. If she was going to kill him, then so be it, but he would die before he led Zarkon to the rest of the lions. He’d die before he led Zarkon to Keith. 

“Why?” Haggar hissed, fisted her long, bony fingers in his hair and tugging. “The lions do not belong to you. Not all the Paladins of Old are gone, and the Black Lion will listen to Lord Zarkon over you. There is no doubt you will fail and bring utter ruin to all you hold dear unless you surrender the lions and their paladins to me.”

Now Shiro forced his eyes open and a tiny smug smile to his chapped lips. _“If that were true,”_ he rasped, _“then why can’t Zarkon find the lions? Why do you need me to tell you?”_

“You know nothing,” Hagger challenged, tone as sharp as her nails. “These new paladins, whoever they may be, will not save you. They will never know where to find you.”

He waited, not being able to find any fault in that logic. 

“You will die for nothing.”

Shiro inhaled quick, shallow breaths through his mouth, and tears stung in the corners of his eyes. The pain that was to follow would be brutal and endless, and he wouldn’t be able to hold on any longer. He would never return to his cabin in the middle of the desert. He’d never eat the garrison’s mac and cheese again, and he and Keith would never take that road trip from Houston to Santa Fe. 

Instead he’d die alone on a surgical table at the hands of the universe’s most vile witch. 

Perhaps Sendak was right. He’d granted his brother a mercy far greater than Shiro could ever acknowledge by ending his suffering quickly and painlessly. 

Instead, Shiro was going to die a slow and agonizing death, and maybe he deserved it after Sendak killed an entire population because of his insubordination. 

But it wouldn’t be for nothing. He would die to protect the Black Lion and the paladins. Though Black seemed to abandon him, leaving Shiro’s soul severed and bleeding, Shiro somehow knew it wasn’t the Black Lion’s will for them to be separated. Thace and the Galra had torn them apart when they sliced off Shiro’s arm during the quintessence transference. 

But while Shiro would die before betraying the trust and faith Black put in him, ultimately, the choice came down to one deciding factor. 

He wanted to protect his little brother. 

Haggar sensed his resistance had firmed, and with a harrowing shriek, she unleashed a fury of power through his body. The intense flames burned from the inside out. 

He didn’t even have the breath to scream. 

_Pre-Kerberos_

Through the viewer screen, Shiro watched a hopelessly obstinate Keith tug on the edge of his gloves, purposefully glaring anywhere by at Shiro. It hurt to see Keith so closed off, the boy sitting there with his knee up like a physical obstacle to keep Shiro away, even though they were thousands of miles apart. He wanted to hit Keith’s shoulder with his own, poke him in the side, and generally annoy him until Keith told him what was wrong. It worked almost seventy percent of the time. The other thirty percent, Keith would just attack him, and they’d work out Keith’s fury of emotions. 

This time, Shiro could only ask. 

“Keith, did something happen?”

Keith’s shoulder jerked, and he continued to look anywhere but at the screen. 

Time to pull out _that_ voice. “ _Keith._ ”

His back immediately straightening, Keith finally narrowed his eyes into the camera, like he hated Shiro for ordering him to talk. “There are something like fifty people listening to our conversation right now.”

“Yeah, and it’s being recorded for studies and prosperity and just for kicks. Your point?”

“I can’t tell you!”

Now Shiro noticed the slight blush across Keith’s cheeks, the adverted eyes that desperately didn’t want to meet Shiro’s, and the way he fidgeted in his seat. This was worse than anything Shiro could have ever imagined would happen during his mission. 

“You have a crush on someone!”

Keith’s face flashed red, and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. “Sh-Shiro! What—What the hell!”

“I can’t believe it! You have a crush on someone,” Shiro announced a second time, which only made Keith collapse against the table and cover his face with his cut-off gloves. “Who is it?”

“Shiro, stop!”

“Do I know this person? Was he in one of the classes I instructed?”

“I am not having this conversation with you.”

“I like how you think that’s your decision.”

“This is an open channel where every one of my professors can hear!”

Oooh. “And play wingman, if you want. I’m sure I can get one of the TAs to – ”

“Shiro!” Keith slammed his hands down upon the desk and glared through the camera, right into Shiro’s soul. “Stop. Okay? It’s not like this isn’t bad enough as it is.”

Shiro leaned back in his desk, truly regretting for the first time accepting the mission. His late-blooming little brother was finally entering adulthood, and Shiro was thousands of miles away, unable to give the obligatory ribbing a first love demanded. Even worse, Keith appeared at a loss for words, and that cut Shiro to the quick. 

“I – I just don’t know what to do here…with this,” he said, hands out in front of him as if pleading a case. “I mean, Shiro – he won’t know.”

“Won’t know what?”

“He won’t _know!_ ” Keith touched his ears – his round, very human-like ears, not the purple ones that Shiro had seen on occasion. 

Ooh. That was an issue, one Shiro hadn’t thought about before. What was Keith? He was “Galra,” but Keith never explained what that was exactly and how he could shapeshift. Did that mean he could stay in a human form forever and perhaps have children that way?

Keith was right. That was a conversation for another time and not over an open channel where any number of scientists could be listening. And as much as Shiro trusted the garrison techs, he’d seen way too many movies and some awkward eye-glaring during mission briefings to feel comfortable. 

So for right now, damage control. “That doesn’t matter, Keith. What matters is that you like this mystery person, and hopefully, he likes you.”

Keith ran his hands along his mullet before finally tying up the edges. “How do I find out if he does?”

“You ask him.”

“What!” Keith appeared panicked again, breathing quick and fast. “I can’t do that!”

“This isn’t rocket science, Keith.” God, was he ever this young? “You talk to him. Say hi. Strike up a conversation, and then see how he acts. If he seems interested, ask him to do something. Go to town. Get dinner and take in a movie. Or stay on campus and see one of the flicks they show every Thursday. Do something easy you’ll both like.”

Keith sat up straight, an idea shimmering in his eyes, and Shiro decided to shoot that down immediately. “Not everyone likes to spar, Keith. Most people don’t. Don’t invite him to a training session unless you know he’s into that sort of thing.”

“ _Fiiiiine._ ” Keith deflated, resting his chin against his propped up hand. “And then what?”

“Don’t do anything else until I get home,” Shiro demanded, making sure to pitch it more like an order from a garrison commander than a request from a big brother. “We’ll deal with everything else then, all right?”

Like finding out if Keith was biologically compatible with humans. Geez, how would he go about that anyway? 

Never mind that now. One issue at a time. 

Shiro forced a gentle smile and repeated, “All right, kiddo? It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith muttered, ears drooping again, and Shiro wished he could see his little brother in his purple form, all pouty and adorable. “How much longer again?”

Shiro checked the countdown on the monitor to his left again. “We land on Kerberos in three days and set up shop. We’ll start selecting ice crystals early next week. That should take about two months or so, and then we’ll be heading back. We’re almost half-way through, Keith.”

“Great,” but he didn’t sound that way at all. 

Sighing, Shiro wished he could be there to wrap an arm about his brother and draw him close. “I know this isn’t easy, but we’ll get through it. And then when I get home, we have that road trip to take, and I bet I can arrange for a quick shuttle to the moon. I’ll even let you fly.”

Keith was still despondent, but he muttered from underneath those long bangs, “Miss you.”

“I miss you, kiddo, too, but I’ll be home before you know it.” 

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer for Season Two is out! Daaaaamn.


	13. The Paladin and The Druid

_Post-Kerberos_

“ – not much time,” a hushed but forceful voice proclaimed close to Shiro’s ear. “You need to hold out, Champion.”

Hurt. Cold. Wet. Shivering. _Alive._

“Commander Sendak is working on a transfer from the Druid’s influence and trying to use the Red Lion to return to Zarkon’s favor. I-It’s taking time, but you can’t give up, Champion. The commander would never forgive you.”

Who? 

“You are the Champion…Shiro,” Haxus said, disgusted as if forcing himself to speak. “Prove it once more. Do not let Haggar defeat you, and hold on. Commander Sendak is coming for you. Do not fail him, or I will find what is left of you once Haggar is done and end your miserable existence properly.”

Haxus? Was that Haxus? He sounded so far away.

“You are strong, Shiro. Stay that way. The commander will once more have you on the bridge soon.”

A strong hand grabbed his and squeezed. With the crippling pain still throbbing throughout his body, Shiro could only move a single finger to reciprocate. 

_Kerberos_

“Easy, son. This ice is delicate.” 

“Amazing. Isn’t this exciting, Shiro?”

Shiro laughed but made sure to keep the cylinder steady, just like he’d practiced time and time again during runs to the moon. “You guys get a little more excited about ice samples than I do.”

The stars, however, were breathtaking all the way out here on the edge of the solar system, so much more beautiful and shimmering than they appeared from the roof of the desert cabin, and he couldn’t wait to bring Keith out here to see them for himself one day.

Commander Holt brought Shiro back to the task at hand with his usual gentle reproach. “This is history in the making. Not only have we traveled farther than any human ever has, but this ice could hold microscopic clues about the existence of life outside of Earth.”

Shiro felt a pang of guilt – he shared an apartment with living, breathing evidence – but the feeling quickly subsided. Protecting Keith was his priority.

“Think of it, Dad,” Matt interrupted. “We could use those clues to become the first people to meet aliens.” 

Shiro kept quiet. 

“My life’s work would be complete,” Sam sighed, and Shiro thought maybe, maybe if they didn’t find evidence here, Keith would be willing to meet Sam, if for no other reason than Commander Holt could help them with Keith’s biological and hormonal issues, discover if Keith’s make-up was compatible with humans. But that was a question for another time, especially when in the here and now, the moon suddenly shook and jarred as something large approached. 

“What is that?” Sam asked. “Seismic activity?”

Shiro wished he didn’t know what it was, hoped he wasn’t right, but just in case – “We should get back to the ship.” 

Then the large glowing purple and black ship broke the moon’s horizon, assaulting the skyline above them. “What-What is that?” Matt started, astonished. 

“It can’t be.” Sam. 

Even if Shiro had never seen the ship before, he knew it was a Galra cruiser from Keith’s descriptions. He knew from the fear in Keith’s eyes – a great, unspeakable fear no child’s eyes should never tell – the Galra were hateful and malicious and to be avoided at all costs. 

“Run! Come on, run!”

But it was too late. The ship had seen them, and then Matt and Sam screamed behind him, scared and shrill. Then Shiro lost his footing, some force ripping him from the moon’s surface. His breath hitched, choked in his throat, and as the darkness crept into his vision, Shiro’s thoughts returned to Earth and that cabin with a desert willow and twin speeders sitting outside it. 

_Keith…I’m sorry._

_Post-Kerberos_

"This is unacceptable, Haggar."

The darkness retreated, just enough for the pain to return. 

"He is stubborn, my lord. It is a common trait among his kind."

The agony rippled through his being, rendering him mute and lame.

"You dare to compare this weakling to – "

"An observation, my lord, nothing more, but we can use it to our advantage. I can make the Champion your greatest weapon."

"How do you presume to do that, Haggar? If you cannot get him to divulge the locations of the lions, then how do you propose to court his loyalty for the Galra Empire?"

"We already know what matters most to him, my lord. If he was chosen by the Black Lion to be its paladin – ” 

A low growl rumbled through the room. Nausea bubbled up in the back of Shiro’s throat. 

“ – then he will do anything to protect the Red Paladin. And he knows who that is. In order to protect him, the Champion will do anything – even find the lions and form Voltron, delivering the universe's greatest weapon to you."

Silence reigned. Shiro tried to move his head, but the pitiful moan that escaped his lips sounded so foreign and far away, he couldn’t believe it came from him. 

*^*^*

Shiro’s eyes shot wide, and he returned to reality in a surge of pain and power. His heart hammered in his chest, threatening to tear through muscles and flesh, and every breath stabbed his ribs with a fresh jolt of pain. Other than to groan, Shiro couldn’t move, but he felt better than the last time he awoke. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, really. 

“Welcome back to the world of living, Shiro.” The voice was mirthless, empty. “You can thank me later, though you probably won’t want to.”

Shiro’s eyes shifted to the right. Tears stung his eyes and blurred his vision, but the boy’s light hair and soft features were familiar, comforting. And the voice itself was enough to loosen the tight knot in Shiro’s chest. 

_“Matt,”_ he croaked. 

Matt Holt was different than Shiro remembered, missing his wire frames that seemed ever present in their months of training and then the mission. Gone were his orange and gray cadet uniform and jumpsuit, and his once carefree and mischievous grin had been displaced by a baleful frown that spoke sympathy and pity. 

At one time, Shiro would have hated that expression, but now he basked in the simple pleasure of Matt’s presence. 

He opened his mouth to speak again, but pain scratched his throat and kept him silent. A violent cough tore through his chest, and Matt shifted to the side, his gloved hand reaching out from his dark cloak to grab something beyond Shiro’s vision. 

The entire situation was incredibly surreal. Here he lay, missing an arm, battered, bruised, and beaten, strapped to a table where he’d been tortured by an insidious witch. And here geeky Matt Holt who used to babble about biochemistry and botany and even glaciology, who used to wear capris and long-sleeved T-shirts, now donned dark, sinister-looking robes. Together, they found themselves on an alien warship, and Matt held a cup of water with a straw for Shiro to drink.

How was any of this real? They had been cadets and spoke about discovering alien lifeforms and exploring space – but this? Never in his wildest imagination did Shiro ever think this – the Galra Empire – would happen to them. Now seeing Matt, he felt like they were stuck in a nightmare, and he couldn’t wake up. 

But it had to be real because the acute agony lingering in his bones said it was.

The cold drink soothed Shiro’s raw throat, and then Matt eased his upper body back down to the cool surface, letting Shiro’s strained muscles relax once more. 

Taking a seat on the edge of the table, Matt hitched one leg up under his cloak and wrapped his arms about it, appearing like the nerdy college kid he no longer was. “Guess it all makes sense now, huh? You were always insanely better than everyone else at…well, everything. Figures a mystical robotic lion would claim you as its pilot and put you in charge of saving the universe.”

 _“Our odds don’t look good,”_ Shiro rasped with a gruff laugh. 

Matt shrugged. “It’s always darkest before the dawn, or so they say. It’s been pretty dark for a long time.”

Shiro tipped his head back, allowing the tears to slip from his eyes and down his temples. It had been dark with blood and anger and so much pain, and the lions – they hadn’t come back to him yet. They remained silent, and that scared him. Had they abandoned him? Was he no longer worthy, or was something keeping them at bay? 

Where was the Black Bayard? What had happened to it?

Matt sighed, loud and interrupting, and Shiro’s eyes cracked open to see Matt staring down at him with that patented look of pity again. 

“Haggar believes you to be the new Black Paladin, the head of Voltron. Lord Zarkon believes you to be nothing but an upstart, and as soon as you free his lion, he plans to kill you.”

Somehow, it unnerved Shiro more that Matt called Zarkon his lord than that the kid prophesied his death. 

“Sendak has been demanding you be returned to his command, but he won’t win. Haggar is currently in Lord Zarkon’s favor, and she will decide what happens to you.”

The question went unsaid, but Matt answered it nonetheless. 

“You have no choice, Shiro. I haven’t felt the presence of the lions since the Red Lion was captured. They won’t come to save you.”

Perhaps he didn’t need to be saved. 

“Neither will the other paladins if you don’t survive. You are the Black Paladin now, Shiro, no matter what our lord believes.” 

Zarkon wasn’t Shiro’s lord. 

“You are the first. The others won’t know of their destiny if you don’t live to fulfil yours.”

_“But once I do, Zarkon will kill me.”_

Matt’s eyes shook, and he quickly averted them. “Shiro, you’ve seen the strength of the Galra Empire. You won’t win.”

_“But you said it was up to me to save the universe.”_

“Yes, and it’s going to be a bitter, bloody war, one I don’t know if you can win.” He sighed, reaching over Shiro’s body to thread his fingers with Shiro’s remaining ones. “But we won’t have a fighting chance if you don't give them what they want to know. Just tell them, Shiro.”

He couldn’t. 

“Give him something, Shiro. If you don’t know where the Black Lion is, at least tell him who the Red Paladin is. It’ll give you more time.”

Shiro’s eyes rounded; through the pain, he forced himself to shift to see Matt, who smiled apologetically at him. 

“If you don’t, I will.”

Shiro’s stomach roiled; his blood ran cold. 

“It’s Keith, isn’t it? That kid who used to follow you around the garrison. He’s the Red Paladin, right?”

The ground opened underneath Shiro and swallowed him whole – or at least, that was what it felt like as he stared at Matt, suddenly no longer seeing his friend, brother-in-arms, and mission partner. Instead, he saw the black and maroon cloak, dark leather gloves, and white, frightening mask laying upon the table – the official garb of a Druid. 

Matt had joined the Galra Empire. 

_“Matt, please…”_

Matt’s eyes glistened, and his desperation bled through his clutching grip. “I-I can’t – Shiro, you don’t know what they told me to do if I don’t get any information from you. I can’t…not…give them something.”

 _“…he’s my little brother, Matt.”_

“Shiro, listen to me. Please. Keith wasn’t your– ”

Desperate tears stained tracks down his cheeks. _“You-You can’t. Matt, please – ”_

“You don’t have to protect him– ”

 _“He’s_ seventeen, _Matt. He’s practically a – ”_

“What does it matter if Zarkon gets him? He’s not your brother, Shiro. He’s just some lost kitten who wound up on your doorstep.”

In a motion that sent fire racing through his arm, Shiro tugged his fingers free.

“Give him to Zarkon, Shiro,” Matt urged, his fingers curling back into a tight fist. “It’ll buy you some time, and together, we can come up with a way to save you and Dad.”

Shiro refused to relent, his condemning eyes glaring into Matt’s glassy ones. 

Matt continued, blathering and sobbing at once. “You’ve seen Dad, right? He said he saw you, and – and – Shiro, do you think I want to do this? But they’ll kill him if I don’t – or – or they’ll do to him what they did to me. I can’t let them pull him apart and meld him back together again, Shiro. I-I-I-can’t. Please don’t make me – ”

There was a deep, unsettling pain in Shiro’s chest where he thought his heart once laid. _“K-Katie – ”_

Matt’s face scrunched in pure madness. “Why would you bring her – ”

_“Keith is my Katie, Matt,”_ Shiro insisted, eyes never wavering. _“I can’t.”_

He said nothing else, but the meaning hung between them. _I’m not giving up my brother to save myself._

Matt scowled, pushing to his feet. As he whipped about, his dark cloak brushing against Shiro’s stump, and Shiro flinched. 

“Lord Zarkon isn’t going to hurt Keith, Shiro,” Matt argued. “The Black and Red Paladins are linked. He just wants to find the other half of his soul – ”

 _“And when Zarkon realizes that Keith is_ my _Red Paladin, not his, what do you think he’ll do?”_

Matt’s fists trembled; he refused to meet Shiro’s eyes again. 

_“And if you tell them about Keith, you know they’ll go to Earth to get him,”_ Shiro persisted. _“You really think Katie’ll be safe?”_

Matt’s hands unclenched, then clenched again, just to repeat the process once more. He remained silent, torn and lost, until he collapsed to his knees, laying his head on his folded arms next to Shiro’s hand. 

“I can’t do this, Shiro. I-I don’t want to do this. Please. What am I supposed to do? H-How am I-I just supposed to – ”

It took all of Shiro’s strength to lift his hand and place it upon Matt’s disheveled crown. _“It’ll be all right, Matt.”_

Matt lifted his lost and troubled eyes, and Shiro softened his, hoping it provided some sort of comfort. 

“B-But I have to – to – or they’ll – to my dad – ”

 _“Then do it.”_ Shiro’s hand stilled as he braced himself for what was to come. _“It’s not your fault. None of this is.”_ He swallowed hard, refusing to break eye contact with Matt. _“Just tell Keith I love him, okay? If you see him again. Tell him I died in the arena – during my first fight, and that – that I didn’t suffer.”_

Matt scoffed and wiped the tears from his eyes with his gloved thumb. “Tell him yourself. I’m not here to kill you, Shiro. The Galra aren’t done with you yet.” He rose to his feet, and Shiro caught a glimpse of Matt’s full garb. It was terrifying and alluring all at once, regal but deadly. “I’m here to help Haggar remake you into Zarkon’s greatest weapon, his champion.”

Shiro accepted his fate, eyes shifting upwards to gaze toward the heavens. _“It was good to see you, Matt. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”_

Matt sounded so broken, his long hair shielding his glowing eyes. “Bite your tongue, Shiro.” 

Violet power flooded the small cell, and for the first time in Shiro didn’t know how long, he wasn’t in pain. 

_To Be Continued..._


	14. Zarkon's Champion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Gore and non-consensual body modification (Shiro gets really big muscles)

_Post-Kerberos_

“Shiro?”

Shiro blinked, suddenly awake and suddenly there, where he hadn’t been before. Some inkling skirted on the edge of his consciousness, like he was supposed to remember something important and forgot, and it bothered him immensely. 

“Shiro, you okay?”

When Shiro closed his eyes, he smelled the fresh aroma of flowers from the desert willow mixed with the charred odor of burnt mac and cheese, the latter courtesy of Keith. The dry desert heat persisted into the dead of night, and even with a light black tank top and loose sweatpants, Shiro gleamed with sweat. 

This whole scenario seemed so familiar, so soothing, like the launching sequence of the space shuttle or the rhythm of Keith’s breathing as he slept against Shiro’s shoulder, but an undercurrent of menace, of anxiety, unnerved Shiro. 

What was he forgetting?

“Shiro!” 

Shiro blinked again, turning from the open window where the curtains rippled with the cool desert breeze, and he settled into the corner of the couch as Keith entered from the kitchen. 

“You okay, Shiro? I was calling you.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to space out there.”

Keith jerked a shoulder, handing Shiro a cool mug of milk before plopping down on the couch’s left cushion. “We should probably head back to the base, get your head checked out.”

With a tiny smile, Shiro took a sip of his drink. “I’m fine, kiddo. You weren’t going that fast.”

“You flew off the back of the speedster, Shiro.” Keith’s glower lost its harsh edge with that glint of concern shimmering in his eyes. “You hit your head. You could have a concussion, and what if you broke one of those little bones in your arm or something?”

Shiro glanced down at his arm, his right arm, and flexed it tentatively. It looked normal, tanned from the desert’s scorching rays, but there was a noise, a light zip of gears and mechanisms. 

Instead of dwelling upon it, he reached out to ruffle Keith’s long locks. “All seems to be in working order. See?”

“But I was moving – ”

“You hit the acceleration, Keith. We weren’t even going ten miles per hour.” Shiro’s heart broke a little as he watched Keith, all of thirteen or so, staring at him as if he’d disappear at any moment. “Stop worrying, will you? I’m not going anywhere, but you could go and grab me a few cookies to go with this.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but a relieved smile lingered upon his features. He was up in a second’s time, making sure to hit Shiro’s shoulder as he passed. 

Shiro watched him go, a fond grin plastered onto his own face, and he refused to turn away even when a dark figure fell into Keith’s seat. 

His perfect world collapsed around him. 

“This is a dream, isn’t it?” he whispered. 

“More like a memory.” Matt breathed, watching Keith move about the kitchen as well. Apparently, Keith couldn’t see Matt, or by now, he would have acknowledged him. “Consider this my final act of mercy to you. I thought you’d like to see him again before…”

A loud squawk echoed through the desert caverns, and Shiro glanced over the spine of the couch and through the sheer curtains to see the desert willow ablaze against the dark canvass of night. It was so tacky and perfect with its overly large ornaments and brightly colored lights. 

“This was our first Christmas together. I taught Keith how to drive the speedster,” Shiro explained, relinquishing his mug when Matt reached for it. “I wasn’t holding on properly when he hit the accelerator and took off. Fell right off the back and hit my head. We started late in the afternoon, so I didn’t think it was safe to try to make it back to the garrison at night – especially with Keith at the helm. I downplayed it, but Keith sat up with me all night, keeping me awake just in case I had a concussion.” His eyes wandered back to the kitchen, where garland and lights and a small blinking snowman sat on the counter. “It was the first time I remember someone doing something like that for me. It was the first time I knew what it was like to have a family.”

Matt’s hand came to clasp Shiro on the shoulder, but Shiro never looked away from Keith’s awkward, growing body as he shuffled from cabinet to cabinet. 

“We’re out of Oreos,” Keith called, slamming shut the last door. “You want chocolate chip?”

Shiro made a face in attempt to hide the tears. “Any chance we have some Snickerdoodles left?”

Keith heaved an exaggerated sigh and checked the bottom cabinet again. “Ever think we might need to buy some real food, not just cookies and breakfast bars?”

“You only live once.”

“Not very long with this intake.”

“Y’know, you really are an ass.” Matt cracked a challenging smile and shook his head. “You couldn’t have told us the person you revere as a brother is an alien? Might have saved the garrison a few billion on that whole Kerberos mission.”

Shiro grinned sheepishly. “I’ve seen too many space horror flicks. Wouldn’t subject Keith to that.”

“Yeah, but Katie would have done a spit-take clear across the room, and I would have recorded that for posterity.”

“And blackmail.”

“That, too.” 

“How much longer do I have?”

Matt sighed. “Not much. Haggar is coming, and once she arrives, I’ll have to start. She’ll take all your feelings – fear, anger, love – and twist them, forcing you to submit. Along with the arm, which is powered by energy from the Black Bayard, and pure quintessence, you won’t be able to resist.”

Shiro’s hands trembled as Keith turned back to him with a genuine smile and asked if he’d settle for Pop-Tarts. “Tell me how to defeat her,” he pleaded. 

“You can’t,” Matt replied. “She won the moment she found your weakness.”

A fierce shiver worked its way through Shiro’s body, and he shot an accusatory glare at Matt. “You told her about Keith.”

Matt dismissed it with a twitch of his shoulder and a sip of milk. “I haven’t told Haggar or Lord Zarkon anything, but that’s not the bright side, Shiro.”

Shiro winced and waited for the final blow. 

“They’re giving you the power to defeat them. They may be training you to become their greatest weapon, but they are also training you to become their greatest enemy.” Matt’s patented mischievous smirk overtook his face. “Apparently, no girl, boy, ancient witch, evil emperor, or mystical robotic lion can keep their claws off you.” Shiro’s face flushed, and Matt hit his shoulder into Shiro’s. “And lost kittens.”

“You’ll tell him, won’t you?” Shiro implored. 

Keith came to settle across from Shiro, sitting upon the coffee table and looking at Shiro like his whole world revolved around him. 

“I don’t have to,” Matt replied. “You can. Tell him what you want him to know.”

“Shiro?” Keith asked again, placing a Pop-Tart next to him on the table – no napkin or anything. “Are you feeling all right? Are you sure you don’t want to head back to the base?”

By the concerned glint in his eyes and honest expression on Keith’s face, Shiro knew everything he ever wanted to say to Keith, his brother already knew. They spoke how they felt about each other in every call, in every conversation. Even before Shiro left for Kerberos – gentle teasing, hair ruffles, second helpings of mac and cheese, late-night study sessions – they were family.

There didn’t need to be a last-minute deathbed confession because there was nothing to confess. So instead, he reached out, waiting for Keith to knot their fingers together, and smiled through his tears. 

“Next time, add milk before the powder packet.”

“What!” duel shouts rang. 

Shiro pinned Matt and Keith each with an annoyed glare. “To stop the mac and cheese from burning. If you start with the liquid, then the cheese powder won’t burn.” 

“Seriously? That’s what’s worrying you?” Keith snorted. 

Matt scoffed, “You have one thing to say to your brother, and it’s how to make powdered mac and cheese properly?”

“If you had one thing to say to Katie, what would it be?”

At first, Matt looked troubled, his crestfallen eyes staring at this gloves, and then a stupid smile brightened his features. “ ‘Don’t listen to Dad. Freeze-dried peas suck. Make sure to pack the freeze-dried ice cream.’ ”

“God, they do suck, don’t they?” Shiro laughed, and he looked toward Keith again. “Freeze-dried peas are a no on any mission, Keith. Remember that. And make sure to breathe and concentrate. Patience yields focus, okay? Don’t let your temper rule your emotions. And – And – ” He pulled Keith close, tucking the boy under his chin and holding him close, despite the fact that in this memory, he’d known Keith for less than a year. “And kiddo, when a lion chooses you to be its paladin and wants you to save the universe, choose a color other than red. Or black. Maybe blue or yellow. Perhaps green. Yeah, try green. That sounds safe.”

“Green?” Keith echoed, disgusted. 

“Sometimes we don’t get what we want, kid.”

“A secondary color?” Matt scoffed. “Please. Kid is definitely a primary color.”

Shiro looked directly into Keith’s violet eyes and smiled. “Keith never does everything in halves, Matt. That’s for sure. He’s destined for greatness.”

“And so are you,” Matt replied, somber and true, glancing around the one-room cabin. “This has never been your future – or his.”

“And this is ours?” he asked, feeling his arm again – his arm. It was still there, attached and functional and warm. “Serving the Galra, being their weapons. This is our destiny?”

“It’s mine,” Matt replied, exasperated and exhausted. “Don’t let it be yours.”

“How?” Shiro demanded. “Tell me how, Matt. How can I stop this? How do I stop them from finding Keith and –”

Matt shrugged, head jerking to the side as if listening to someone else speak. “You give them what they want most, even more than the other lions and the Red Paladin.”

“What is that?”

“You.”

Matt stood then, shifting his robes, and when he donned the white mask once more, he ceased to exist. The sinister-looking garb swallowed every trace of the good-natured, animated Matthew Holt and replaced it with the cold, terrifying, anonymous persona of a Galra Druid. 

Shiro squeezed Keith’s shoulder once more and pressed a kiss to the cadet’s forehead. “I’m sorry.”

Then Keith’s vulnerable and frightened eyes faded, darkening and narrowing until Shiro stared into the tiny yellow slits of a Druid’s mask. As he laid once more upon the surgical table, Matt stared down at him, every part of his identity suppressed and tamed. He then shifted his gaze across the table to someone – Haggar, Shiro saw. 

She smirked at Shiro with a haughty expression, like she always knew it would come to this, and Shiro mourned the relative sanctuary of the desert cabin and the indulgent comfort of his little brother’s warmth against his side. 

“You have exhausted Lord Zarkon’s and my patience, Champion. If you will not tell us where the lions are or who the Red Paladin is, we’ll simply have you bring them to us.”

The debilitating pain returned now, pinning Shiro to the table better than any restraints, but it wasn’t as fierce as before, as blinding. He could focus and hear everything they demanded of him, and somehow, he missed the lovely ignorance that came with crippling agony. 

“Don’t worry,” she soothed, her fingers lingering upon his forehead and trailing through his limp locks. “Soon all your insolence will have been for naught. You’ll cease to be who are and become a part of the Galra Empire, its emperor’s fiercest warrior and the destroyer of all who dare to defy us.”

The purple and black glow once more shone between Matt’s hands as he wove the fabric of reality and magic, and then he bowed – a silent apology. Shiro wondered briefly, painfully, what Haggar and the Druids had done to render such a lively person mute, but Matt thrust his glowing hands down on Shiro’s good arm, erasing all idle thoughts. 

Instead of the intense electricity that usually drained him, Shiro suffered the sudden warmth that rushed through his veins, seeped into his muscles, and settled in his bones. It was too much, too soon, building in his system and overloading his overworked tendons. The pure quintessence intensified and expanded, doing something to Shiro’s makeup. It was unnatural. It was unbearably uncomfortable, and it _burned_ , differently from when Haggar interrogated him. His muscles grew and pressed against his skin, stretching it, tearing it, and Shiro released an animalistic, in-human howl. He didn’t even recognize as his own voice. 

His eyes fluttered shut, and he clenched his teeth until he tasted blood. This was worse than before. At least then he knew death’s sweet embrace was awaiting him, but now, Shiro wasn’t sure what they were doing to him, how they were changing him. It scared him in a way death never did. 

To die meant to find peace and an end to suffering. To live and work for the Galra Empire meant to change his very being and become a monster just like their soldiers. 

As the agony and quintessence penetrated and reverberated in every cell of his body, Shiro found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. He’d groan and scream, a white hot flame raging in the pit of his stomach and threatening to burst. He was sure he sobbed, perhaps even begging in a non-verbal way, writhing and gargling with a mixture of salvia and blood dribbling down the side of his chin. He sought Matt, who offered no comfort with his face hidden behind that emotionless mask, his power glowing a rich violet that reminded Shiro too much of Keith’s eyes. 

Shiro mouthed, begging for the end, to stop them from making him into one of their monsters, but the pain only inflamed, scorching from the tips of his front lock down to his toes, which curled so hard he thought they might break. 

Cramps contracted his stomach muscles in violent snaps, and his flesh tore until it was wet and slick with what Shiro thought could not be sweat. Oh, God – was he leaking? Was that blood or urine? Did his skin actual liquefy? What was he laying in? What were they doing to him?

Was he even human anymore? 

He couldn’t deal with this. He could deal with the pain and the threats, the physical pain and emotional turmoil. Even the arena and their medieval, gladiatorial clashes he could withstand, but this – attacking him on the most fundamental levels and changing him to be one of them, both physically and mentally – Shiro couldn’t bear. He couldn’t survive – he wouldn’t survive, not as himself anyway. He didn’t want to survive. 

A soft, gentle hand fell upon his and then gripped, firm and unrelenting. “You’re coming back.”

Shiro somehow managed to shift his eyesight down to where his only human hand lay. Keith bent there, fingers threaded with Shiro’s, a terribly grim expression upon his face.

How was this possible? Keith couldn’t be here…right? The Galra hadn’t found Earth yet. They weren’t heading out there, and even if they had, Haggar wouldn’t have allowed Keith to comfort him. Did Matt – 

“You’re coming back,” Keith insisted, his mouth never moving. Instead, he simply knelt by the bed and glared at Shiro with such a demanding expression that Shiro could do nothing but obey. “You promised you’d come back.”

Tears blurred Shiro’s vision, but those violet eyes never left him. Those clinging fingers never released. 

“Come home,” Keith ordered, and then Haggar appeared over Shiro, still wearing that sadistic little smile that he’d never forget. 

“Give in,” she ordered, her own fingers brushing back the white – what happened to his hair? – strands from his clammy forehead. “You know you don’t have any other options.”

_No._

“Join us. Become Lord Zarkon’s Champion again.”

_I will never fight for you._

“Lord Zarkon will not stop until he finds all the lions and forms Voltron. You know this to be true.”

_Yes._

“Which means he will find the Red Paladin, Champion. You cannot keep his identity a secret forever.” 

Shiro clutched the hand in his. _Keith._

“The Red Paladin is destined to fight alongside the Black,” Haggar declared in a ruthless hiss. “He will join Lord Zarkon one day, Champion, and nothing you can do will stop that.”

Shiro tipped his head back against the table, eyelids slipping shut. 

“You are not strong enough to defeat Lord Zarkon. You will never be strong enough on your own.”

Maybe not, but perhaps with all the lions and the rest of the paladins, with Keith – did they have a fighting chance against an empire that could destroy worlds?

“The only way to protect the Red Paladin is to join us, Champion. You know this. Do not fight it.”

“You promised you’d come back, Shiro,” Keith murmured by his side. 

Haggar continued, “If you fight, you’ll lose, just like your former commander did.”

Sam. 

“Like your young friend who is now my most loyal servant.”

Matt. 

“Come back, Shiro.” Keith. _“Saranghae.” I love you._

“This is your last chance, Champion. If you do not join the Galra Empire now, I will overload your system with quintessence until your soul incinerates, and then you’ll never be able to protect the Red Paladin. Instead, he will be at the mercy of Lord Zarkon, and if he is as spirited as you…”

Zarkon will eventually put him down as well. 

Shiro’s eyes shifted toward the kneeling Keith at his side. _“Nado saranghae._ ” _I love you, too._

Haggar hissed. “What did you say, child?”

Shiro cherished the tiny smile that found Keith’s pale lips. _Forgive me, Keith._

Haggar must have saw something change within his facial expression because the next thing Shiro knew, the vile witch laughed a horrid cackle and the power within him twisted and intensified. His eyes flew open, and tendrils of lightning coiled about his throat and tugged. He choked and hurled, but didn’t struggle. Instead, he clutched Keith’s hand tighter and allowed the quintessence to ripple through him, blighting him until something deep within his chest, something once strong and firm and unbreakable that Shiro hadn’t even known existed – shattered, and those tight tentacles of power tugged Shiro down into the pits of an endless abyss. 

*^*^*

A low thrum of power sounded just on the edge of the Champion’s hearing, but he barely acknowledged it. The dampened growl of a struggling lion, skirting across his consciousness, was much more entertaining, though he could barely hear it. The poor creature howled and thrashed against its invisible cage as if trying to break free to speak with his paladin – Shiro – but the Champion had no use for it. 

Once something fit over the stump of his arm and hummed to life, the Champion jerked at the sudden ferocious roar that reverberated throughout the room, as if it physically hit him – and then the pain came. The nerves in his arm connected to something cool and smooth, and the acute and sudden spike might have paralyzed him at one time but not today. The Champion barely flinched. The once proud and fierce Black Lion let out one final plea – a growling cry for acknowledgement – before the Druids silenced it completely. 

A deep hum of thought took it place, followed by an elated Hagger, “It is done, my lord. With the power of the Black Bayard running through his arm, his quintessence should once more connect to the lions’ and lead him to their whereabouts.”

“Are you sure? You only felt the Champion’s faux connection with my lion when the Black Bayard was near him.”

“The power will serve as a beckon, my lord. It is only a matter of time until you have all the lions returned to your command.” 

“Hm. We shall see.”

A hand fell to the Champion’s shoulder and squeezed – in comfort or restraint, the Champion couldn’t have cared less – but then he watched as Haggar unhooked the table restraints and gestured him to sit up. 

Zarkon’s venomous violet eyes glowed in the relative darkness of the cell. “Come, Champion. It is time you learned how to use the power you have been given and serve me without hesitation.”

“Yes, my lord,” the Champion snapped, like a reflex, and the words came with little thought, the action second nature as he fell to one knee, newly-acquired Galra fist over his heart. “Vrepit sa.”

Zarkon allowed himself a ghost of sinister grin. “Vrepit sa.”

_To Be Continued..._


	15. Champion vs. Champion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual warning: Blood and gore. (The Champion takes to the arena once more.)

The Champion’s return to the gladiator games lured every Galra commander and sentry within five solar systems. The arena erupted in glorious cheers when the Champion took to the gravel floor, and he no longer needed any weapon of sort. With his arm, he _was_ the weapon, and he would once more prove he was worthy of the title he earned. 

What once had been challenging battles between gladiators became nothing more than blood baths for the Champion to wade in. After personalized training by Zarkon at Central Command, much to Haggar’s delight, the Champion thrived in battle and ended every one in bloodshed. Even the Wrangler flinched as the Champion’s arm hummed with power. Bones snapped, flesh split, blood splattered with the Champion’s precise, mechanical attacks. 

Perhaps the most eerie of all was the Champion’s distant, apathetic expression. While Galra soldiers and sentries wore looks of disdain and malice when performing their acts of cruelty, the Champion showed none of the bloodthirst of his masters. He failed to react to any of his challengers’ pleas, always silent, always hunting. When the fighters clamored away, he stalked forward in a reserved stride, weaponized arm lifted, the dark violet light luring each spectator’s eyes like a beckon. 

No matter how they fought or hid, the Champion found his prey and ended the battles with little or no fanfare. He completed his mission, nothing more, nothing less. Success or death, and the Champion always chose success. 

While the Champion seemed to reject any emotions, he felt a strong annoyance toward the lion that growled and roared and prowled in the back of his mind like the caged animal it must have been. Every time he activated his arm, the lion came to life, letting the Champion know of its dissatisfaction. But the Champion spoke none of this to Haggar. Any concerns he may have held were worthless and dismissed. He was to fight. He was to kill. He was to serve Emperor Zarkon and spread the will of the Galra throughout the universe. That was all.

But then the lion’s growl changed, invading his dreams and waking him in the dead of night. This lion was different, frightened and so young, much younger than Black, and the Champion’s arm burned through his sheets. Once fully awake, he blinked, unnerved, as the lion’s frantic purr faded into memory again, leaving only a faint trail to follow. 

One, pitiful thought slipped through from his other self before the Champion regained control. 

_Blue?_

After more than a month in the arena, the war drums set an ominous tone as Zarkon’s Champion entered the gravel pit and waited for a new battle to begin. The air vibrated with a familiar energy, one the Champion struggled to ignore, and anticipation flooded his muscles, causing them to contract bitterly. He remained standing albeit hunched, arm wrapped about his stomach as the challenger arrived. 

Perhaps he should have been surprised when the arena’s door lifted, revealing his latest opponent – Sendak. Perhaps he should have felt betrayed or fearful. Perhaps he should have wondered why they were pitted against once another. Was Zarkon trying to test him? Was Sendak trying to prove his position as Zarkon’s most trusted subordinate? Or perhaps Sendak felt betrayed that _Shiro_ abandoned him and became Zarkon’s Champion again?

The Champion cared for none of those things and only this – success or death. And he would succeed. 

Sendak held duel swords in both hands while a metal plate covered the shoulder he’d hurt on the desert planet. Apparently, the injury Sendak sustained while saving Shiro had been worse than he thought – but the Champion cared only for the information he could use in battle.

If the Champion could laugh, he would have. The battle hadn’t started, and already, he formulated his plan to win. And he would win. He always did. 

Unlike other times where the challenger charged at the Champion, loud and brash and ready to die, Sendak approached in a leisurely stride until he stood less than a sword’s swing from the Champion’s vulnerable neck. 

"Let us see how you fair against the last champion," Sendak sneered, shifting his weight onto his back foot and lifting his swords in a defensive - not offensive - stance. 

For a commander in an empire that professed success or death, a defensive attack was an unusual choice, but perhaps Sendak knew the Champion liked to attack first.

And the Champion did not disappoint. Throwing his head to the side, he activated his arm with a venomous buzz, accented by a frustrated growl of that annoying lion, and charged into combat.

Sendak crossed his swords to absorb the blow, and then he dropped to swing a leg and take down the Champion. Agile and fast, the Champion backed flipped and swiped again, and their deadly dance continued.

The crowd sat in quiet amazement, struck dumb by the beautiful tango that rang with metal and crimson. The former and current champions put on a dangerous show worthy of their respective titles, and even Zarkon leaned forward in his throne, a sinister grin growing upon his shadowed features. 

The blood in the Champion’s veins pumped with excitement as he clashed and battled the commander. He swung and parried, jumped and cut – faster, harder, stronger. Out of all the battles in the last few months, only Zarkon had given him any true struggle. The rest were imitations, dull amusements that he finished in a matter of moments. Zarkon trumped him time and time again, but it made the Champion reclaim his title as Zarkon’s favored warrior, even if he never beat the emperor himself in combat.

Sendak, Zarkon’s other apprentice, rose to the challenge and clashed with the Champion in a manner befitting of their ranks. Perhaps the Champion was still a prisoner, but he was quickly becoming a vital member of the Galra Empire. If he didn’t assume the rank of commander, then he would surely serve underneath one as an officer soon.

And he proved it by drawing the first blood, a burning gash across Sendak’s forearm. It stank of singed fur and charred skin, and Sendak wrenched away, a feral growl upon his trembling lips. 

His teeth gleamed as he snarled, “So the witch has broken you. You disappoint me, Shiro.” He kept a firm hold over his swords and swung them around his palms to threaten. “I thought you were stronger than her.”

Perhaps Shiro would have been embarrassed or distraught over such a statement; the Champion dismissed it and activated his arm again.

The lion – _his_ lion? – rattled its cage as the Champion clashed with Sendak, sparks of violet lightning sizzling off Sendak’s blades and the Champion’s arm. The Champion grabbed both of Sendak’s blades in one hand, jerked them to the side, and slammed his knee ruthlessly into Sendak’s gut. With a grunt, Sendak flew backward and flipped, digging his foot claws into the sand to stop. He had no time to recover as the Champion lunged, glowing arm aimed to take off Sendak’s head, but Sendak shifted, grabbed the Champion’s flesh arm, and tossed him over his shoulder. The Champion soared through the air, crashing hard against one of the arena’s pillars. 

He should have been in pain. He should have been groaning and writhing and wishing he was anywhere but there. Instead, he took to his feet, wiped the warm crimson from the side of his head, and dove for Sendak again. 

Sendak rolled forward, snatched one of his blades, and countered the Champion’s attack. He grunted on the other side of the blade, teeth bared to bite. “You are better than this, Shiro,” he hissed. “Do not be a pawn of the witch and the emperor. Fight her. Fight him.”

The Champion grit his teeth and dropped his arm, sweeping his leg around for a kick that Sendak blocked with his forearm. He countered with a slash, finally hitting the Champion in the side. 

The Champion grunted but didn’t fall, and Sendak responded with an elbow to the Champion’s cheek, knocking him to the ground. 

“Lord Zarkon wants to use you to find the other lions,” he continued, digging his clawed foot in the sand and kicking up his second sword. “As soon as he has them – and the Red Paladin – you will be of no use to him. There is only one way you survive this ordeal, and that is to serve under my command.”

Sucking in deep, cleansing breaths, the Champion calmed his center and gathered his bearings. In one fluid motion, he stood and pounced, arm coming to bear with a venomous glow. This time, he put Sendak on the defensive, landing blow after blow upon the Galra commander. He hit Sendak across both blades, then dove low, burning a scar across Sendak’s thigh. 

Sendak countered with a swift slice of the Champion’s shoulder, then went for his torso, only to be deflected. He gasped and cringed at a sudden hit from the Champion in his side. 

He still managed to huff out verbal taunts. 

“You cannot defeat me, and you certainly won’t defeat Lord Zarkon.”

Blood slid freely down Shiro’s human arm. 

“Do not be a fool. Surrender to me, and I will help you find your true place in the Galra Empire.”

Sendak lost his footing in the sand, tainting the tan pebbles with dark crimson, and the Champion gained the advantage, slamming his knee into Sendak’s side and then grabbing Sendak’s right hand, snapping it instantly. 

The commander grunted but never cried out, even when the Champion held him by the armor and readied for the final blow. 

“Do you truly believe this is the only way you can save your brother?” 

The Champion stilled, his glowing fist stopping inches from Sendak’s unforgiving face. 

Why did he stop? Why did Sendak’s words matter?

Sendak continued in a cruel whisper, “He’ll hate you for what you’ve become, but that is nothing compared to terrible truth that you won’t be able to save him from his fate – to fight for the glory of the Galra Empire.”

The Champion had no soul, no heart strings to snap, and yet something within him _burned_. He combated it by sending his fist soaring toward Sendak’s head again. 

The brief reprieve allowed Sendak to twist the Champion’s good arm, inflicting enough pain to break free and avoid the death blow. But it wasn’t enough. The Champion gave chase, battling Sendak with terribly precise movements. Earlier, he’d learned Sendak’s battle strategy and attacked in kind, and now the Champion went on the offensive, beating Sendak with deliberate attacks. 

A punch to the gut, a slash across the side, a well-placed hit to his hurt shoulder – the Champion was systemically breaking through Sendak’s defenses. 

Distraught, Sendak called to him in a growling command, “Shiro, wake up! You cannot win this. Listen to me.”

But the Champion didn’t, and when he managed to slam Sendak against the back wall of the arena, throat caught between those metal fingers, Sendak coughed and gargled. 

Something empty and cold settled in the Champion’s chest as he saw Sendak struggle to breathe, though his hand only clamped tighter and watched as Sendak’s eyes grew wider. Perhaps if he finished Sendak, the anger that came from the commander’s words would dissipate. 

But the Champion lost the opportunity as he saw something harden in Sendak’s eyes, a confidence and truth he’d missed before. 

Sendak still held onto one of his blades, and when he slammed his knee into the Champion’s mid-section, the Champion loosened his grip. His neck extended, and it was the perfect opportunity for a death blow. Sendak, as a former champion, would end the newest contender’s reign. 

The Champion had been bested, and to die in the arena against a former champion – he accepted it. It was an honorable death. 

Then why did the lion roar so loud that the Champion heard nothing else, until he thought his ears would bleed and his soul would erupt? 

The glistening metal soared toward his vulnerable throat, but the deathblow never came. Instead, the sharp blade lifted at the last possible moment, and it cut an elegant but deep line across the Champion’s face. 

A scar. A warning. A reminder. 

He collapsed in a quivering heap, hot liquid seeping from his wound and blanketing his face in crimson. He coughed, blood flowing into his mouth, and he barely managed to breathe. And the Champion _felt_ – pain, fear, humiliation, anger, intense loathing. Gone was the aloof, cold interior that left nothing more than a numb, surreal feeling with each kill. Instead, the pit of his stomach burned with a white hot rage, and as Sendak neared, the Champion activated his arm and the lion roared again. 

“Shut up!” he screamed as he swiped toward Sendak’s weak spot – the metal plate over his right arm. 

The Champion hesitated just before he reached Sendak’s flesh as the commander muttered, “They’ve found another lion, Shiro. Its voice. They’ve heard it. Something has awaken it. On Earth.”

That something, that vital part of him that shattered months ago, began to re-forge. 

Voltron. Lions. Black. Earth. _Keith._

And Shiro blinked in mid-swipe, flinching as warm blood sprayed upon him from Sendak’s now severed arm. 

The world assaulted Shiro as he suddenly stood in the middle of the arena, horrified and gasping, overwhelmed by the deafening roar of the crowd and the nauseating stench of burnt flesh and blood. He – His hand, his arm – oh, God, what happened to it? It was metal! When did that happen? How did it happen? How could he have lost his right arm?

His nostrils burned. The back of his throat felt raw and sore, and he coughed, over and over. It wasn’t just from the blood on his nose that flowing freely into his mouth and down his chin. There was a body at his feet, a Galra commander. He was missing his arm, too, and his shoulder smoldered and bled, coating the fur with dark lifeforce. His severed arm lay at his side. 

Did Shiro tear off the Galra’s arm…with his metal one?

“You did well, Champion,” a sinister voice hissed from behind him, “but you are frustratingly strong-willed.”

Shiro pivoted, eyes widening at the white-haired witch in a purple hood. She did something to him. His soul shivered at the mere sight of her, but then again, he couldn’t stop himself from trembling.

He hazarded another glance at the unconscious Galra, then up at the darkened stands, and then toward the smirking witch once more. How did he get here? When he did he get here? His arm, the Galra, the blood. There was so much blood. 

WHAT WAS HAPPENING?

“I wonder how many times I will have to break you before you finally heel,” the witch interjected, and before he could reply, Shiro heard the sizzling snaps of electricity. Painful shocks rippled through his body a moment later, and he tumbled face first into sleep’s sweet embrace. 

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around this long, everyone! Next chapter, takes us back to Earth and in two chapters, we're back in the "present." :)


	16. Miracles

Shiro awoke in a solitary cell, dressed in the dark garb of a prisoner of the Galra Empire. His head pounded something fierce, and his body protested with all the soreness that came after a hard workout with the garrison’s best combat specialists. He took self-defense courses throughout his youth, but while training for the Kerberos mission, he’d been taught how to defend himself and the Holts to the best of his abilities. He always walked away from those days with burning muscles and a reoccurring limp. 

Sighing, Shiro tipped his head back against the cell wall and swallowed, still tasting blood in his mouth. He brushed his hand across his now clean face, but he felt something new – something that frightened him and sent him searching for a mirror he wouldn’t find. 

Raised skin, along the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks. A scar? How did he get that?

He flexed a hand, and the high-pitched squeal of gears and metal caught his attention. He’d lost his right arm, but the aliens replaced it with a biorobotic prosthetic that moved like his, worked like his. It was just like his arm but wasn’t. And he hated it. Just the cool sensation against what was left of his stump repulsed him, and he could do nothing but endure it – though he wasn’t sure how. 

So much happened all at once – his arm, the face, and his bangs. The white tips hung just low enough to see, and Shiro feared his entire head had blanched until he pulled out a few strands from the back. They confirmed that his hair had lightened from its once stark black but remained darker than his bangs. 

What had happened to him? How long had been there, in this cell? Months? Years? And just where the hell was he? He surmised nowhere near Kerberos, though he wasn’t sure why. 

“The energy is unmistakable, my lord.” The witch’s raspy voice sounded through the small eye-hole of the cell door. “The Blue Lion has awakened.”

“And you believe the Champion has something to do with it.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Without any Altean royalty, the Champion is the nexus to the other lions. The Blue Lion’s spike of energy may have helped him to break free of my control.”

Shiro found his legs, pushing back against the wall to stand. He used his cybernetic hand to steady himself without a second thought, like he’d had it for some time and relied upon it as he would his own right hand. Shaking off his extreme discomfort at that thought, he crept closer to the doorway. 

“That is unacceptable, Haggar.”

“It is the only way the Champion would have enough strength to – ”

“If I wanted excuses, I would speak to Prorock. I want results. If Champion is to be of any use to me, then he needs to remain loyal and subservient.”

Who were they talking about? 

“Of course, my lord. Once we take custody of the Blue Lion, I will restart his conditioning.”

The growling voice of the emperor sent a cool shiver up Shiro’s spine. “Until the others awaken him as well.”

“If it brings us the lions –” 

“Do not fail me, witch. Voltron is the most powerful weapon in the universe, and I will have it in my grasp again.”

Voltron? 

“I will make it so, my lord.”

What was that – and why it did raise bumps upon his skin and resound in his very soul? 

“Good. Now contact my commanders in that sector. Tell them to do anything in their power to find the Blue Lion. I don’t care if they have to destroy Earth to do so.”

Shiro stiffened. Earth? They were heading toward his home planet for…a blue lion? What even was that, and what did it have to do with this Voltron?

In any case, if these aliens were heading to Earth, he needed to get their first. 

Shiro glanced through the small eyehole and let out a sharp gasp at the towering figure with broad shoulders, a callous glare, and a glowing scar that tore through the side of his face. He towered over the witch, whose eyes shone with a vile yellow and whose pure white hair contrasted her dark hood. Out of the two, she appeared the less dangerous, and yet a distressing fear lingered in the pit of Shiro’s stomach just at the sight of her. 

The emperor left without another word, charging away in a menacing stride. The witch remained, shoulders hunched like an elderly woman, though her eyes narrowed in a vicious glare. 

Shiro trembled and his mouth went dry, but he still had to say something. “Uh, any chance you might let me out of here? Or at least stop your invasion of my planet?”

The witch’s eyes snapped to him, and her bitter scowl cut right to his core. “Do not get comfortable,” she warned. “I will be back for you.”

As she turned on her heel and stormed away, Shiro leaned back against the cell wall and sighed. Well, on the bright side, the witch couldn’t come back for him and his little dog, too, since Keith was a cat – but a cat who looked suspiciously like the rest of the empire’s commanders. 

*^*^*

It didn’t take Shiro long to decide staying wasn’t an option. Alone, huddled in a corner, and waiting for something – he wasn’t sure what – Shiro became acquainted with his metal hand and watched as the fingers listened to his commands. A thoughtful smile crossed his featured when he thought of Matt, who would have loved to poke and prod and discover all the little nuisances of this alien tech. He thought of Commander Holt and his natural curiosity, and wondered if meeting these hostile aliens had been worth completing his life’s work. 

Shiro often wondered where they were and if he could save them, but at the moment, he wasn’t sure even where he was. And he was so alone, more alone than he’d ever felt before, even back on Earth before Keith. 

Before he had a family. 

Shiro couldn’t let this malevolent empire find Earth. He had to at least warn someone – Iverson or the President or this Voltron – and to do that, he needed to escape. 

He began to surmise this was how criminals felt, locked away from society. He had nothing but time, which allowed Shiro to come up with various escape plans. He timed the sentries rotations, made maps in his head of the facilities when they took him to the shower or training deck. (Apparently, whoever was in charge of this place had an invested interest in keeping him healthy and fit.)

He plotted and waited, knowing the fastest way to the hanger. He knew the sentries’ programed maneuvers. He subconsciously knew he could fly one of the Galra fighters if need be, so all he needed was an opportunity to escape. But there never was one. The sentries kept their blasters upon him at all times during transfers, and if not, they secured him with chains and/or harnesses. When in his cell, he had no way to hack the lock – not that he would know how – and other than passing him food and the occasional bed check, his captors left him alone. Not even the white-haired witch came back to see him. 

There was no way for him to break out of this alien prison and warn Earth until someone made a mistake in either the sentries’ programming or his handling. 

And they never did. 

After what appeared to be three weeks – if he was right and received two meals a day – the door opened, revealing an unfamiliar purple alien in a black and red uniform of the empire. His vindictive expression was even more dark and loathsome than that of the witch. 

Before Shiro could ask any questions, the soldier stalked forward and seized him by the front of his prisoner suit, slamming him against the far wall with enough force to bruise. 

“The commander trusted you, and this is how you repay him?”

Commander…? Shiro struggled against the grip, both his hands wringing the soldier’s strong wrist. Through clenched teeth, he hissed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I – ”

“Do not play stupid,” the soldier snapped. “It is unbefitting.” And this time his hand clutched Shiro’s neck, giving it a threatening squeeze. “You are so fragile, so weak, and yet you overwhelmed the strongest commander in the Galra Empire, our emperor’s very own subordinate. How is that even possible?”

Shiro’s face heated up, his cheeks gathering blood, and Shiro heard the rapid thumping of his own heartbeat. He thought his face might explode from the sheer pressure, and still the soldier sneered. 

“I should have known you would cause such trouble. I will not let Commander Sendak be misled again, and you will pay for your transgressions. I will personally see to it.”

In his free hand, the soldier produced a dagger. 

Reacting on instinct, Shiro fought past the burning in his lungs and the spots before his eyes to slam his knee into the alien’s groin. The soldier doubled over, hand loosening from around Shiro’s neck, and Shiro retaliated with two quick blows in rapid succession. The soldier slammed hard to the floor, and Shiro kicked away the dagger before rushing to the open door. 

The soldier coughed and pushed upon all fours to snap, “Run while you can, Takashi Shirogane of Earth. The Galra Empire does not allow defectors. You may escape, but you will return to our ranks. And next time, Commander Sendak will make you embrace your role as an officer under his command.”

Shiro threw a lopsided smile, which he didn’t feel at all. “Tell him good luck with that.”

He sometimes felt like he had nine lives and then some. 

He followed the map in his mind, avoiding the sentries. The last few weeks paid off as he managed to avoid being seen by counting his steps and rerouting his path as per the sentries’ routine. Right, left, another left, and he dove into a small alcove, waited out a patrol unit, and then ran in the opposite direction. He eventually entered the hanger at the back of the battlecruiser, eyes immediately finding the fighters to the side. 

He was a pilot, trained to fly all sorts of aircrafts. Most assuredly, he should be able to fly one of these – 

“You should pray to whatever deity you believe in,” someone whispered in his ear, and before Shiro could turn, a hand clamped about his mouth and metallic arm, dragging him behind one of the fighters. He would have struggled, but another sentry unit passed a moment later, clanging with their heavy armor and large weapons. Shiro surrendered to the hold with a tiny sigh. 

His savior released him a moment later, and Shiro whirled, wishing immediately he had a weapon. Behind him stood _one of them,_ a large cat with graying temples, glowing but sympathetic yellow eyes, and a dark jumpsuit with red markings on his chest and shoulders. 

“You are lucky I was on monitor duty,” the cat continued, crouching low and surveying the area to make sure they were out of sight. “If not, you would have been caught before you left the block.”

Shiro took a quick, shallow breath. Why didn’t the cat threaten him and take him back to his cell? 

The cat glowered, a confused expression enveloping his features, before he pulled out a small paper with coordinates written on it. “Here. I surmise Sendak taught you to fly one of these, but without directions you’ll never be able to reach Earth.”

The hesitant words tumbled from Shiro’s mouth before he could stop them, “Why are you helping me?”

The cat cocked his head to the side, studying Shiro with open bewilderment, before something in his face shifted, cold and sorrowful. “So it’s true. Haggar’s influence damaged your memories.”

Haggar? Was she the witch?

The cat’s back straightened, and when he reached out, Shiro flinched. But the cat only placed a fatherly hand upon Shiro’s shoulder. “You protect him where I cannot. for which I will always be grateful. Consider this a pitiful attempt to even my debt.”

Shiro still didn’t understand and said as much. 

The cat’s eyes softened. “Then know this. I will never forgive myself for leaving him on Earth, but it was for the best. The Red Paladin will always align with the Black. It is the nature of Voltron and one of the certainties of the universe. So perhaps all that has happened we may deem as the will of fate.”

Great. At this rate, Shiro should probably see a psychic when he returned to Earth. 

Shiro jumped, leaning back when the cat hovered just over his head and – sniffed? The cat was actually smelling him? Why would he be…?

Oh. Right. Shiro must have still smelled like Keith – or maybe like another cat? He’d been with the Galra at least a few weeks – that he knew – so he probably still didn’t smell like his own natural scent, which his brother once categorized as earthy and fresh, like dew upon grass just after dawn. Shiro thought that sounded nice.

But never in his wildest imagination did he ever think countless lightyears away from home, captured by a brutal race of cats and droids, and crouching in the middle of a hanger – that a soldier for said empire would grab him by the arm and tug him into a surprisingly strong embrace. The cat smothered him, spreading his arms about Shiro’s back and sides. He rested his cheek against the top of Shiro’s head, rubbing it back and forth while Shiro blinked, uncomfortable and alarmed. Was this cat scent-marking him? 

It didn’t last long, and when the cat pulled away, he was smirking. “Galra are quite territorial. That should help you tame your cub when you return to your planet.”

Shiro’s eyes blew wide. “Wait – What!”

“Now go,” the cat urged, standing and hitting open the spacecraft’s back door, “before Haxus loses his conscience and alerts Commander Prorock of your escape.”

Shiro listened, though he turned halfway around to meet the cat’s gaze again. “Thank you…”

“Thace,” the cat offered before his eyes fell to Shiro’s right arm. “And…despite what you may think, I am sorry about your arm.”

Shuttering unconsciously, Shiro didn’t respond. Even if he didn’t remember how he received it, the wound was too fresh to allow him to formulate a feeling other than mourning. 

“I was trying to save you,” the cat continued, shifting uncomfortably, and Shiro couldn’t deal with any more information, not now. 

Instead, he clenched the coordinates in his hand. “Thank you for this, Thace. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but – ”

“Save the universe… _Shiro._ I believe you may be the only one who can.”

That was unsettling, but before Shiro could ask any questions, an obnoxious siren blared through the hanger. A deep voice echoed with urgency, “Fugitive Prisoner 117-9875. Stay where you are.”

“Go!” Thace ordered as he dashed back toward the hanger’s command deck. “I’ll keep the doors open, but you need to leave now!”

Shiro didn’t disagree and immediately took to the pilot’s chair, strapping in. For a moment, he thought of Matt and Sam Holt and wondered where they may be – perhaps he should stay and try to find them? But the doors to the hanger shrieked and protested, and Shiro scanned the spacecraft’s dashboard, eyes zeroing in on the controls and necessary equipment. If he didn’t know better, he thought maybe, in another lifetime, he’d flown one of these. 

*^*^*

Shiro made it _home_ , but he only enjoyed a moment of relief before his ship crashed against one of the Santa Fe rock formations. The force slammed his head against the dashboard, and strapped to a table with garrison scientists surrounding him, he woke to a real life alien horror flick. The scientists wore hazmat suits like he was some sort of the threat and studied him like a specimen. Didn’t they know the threat was out there, coming for them? 

They didn’t listen, and he was held against his will _again_. It made Shiro thrash manically against the restraints. His own people – his mentors – wouldn’t lock him up like the Galra had. He took Professor Montgomery’s astrophysics classes three semesters straight. And Mr. Harris was his faculty advisor during his second year at the garrison. How could they fear him?

How could they do this to him?

“Sir, it looks like his right arm has been replaced by a cybernetic prosthetic.” 

“Put him under until we know what that thing can do.”

Panic seized him. “ _No no no!_ Don’t put me under. Listen to me!” 

They didn’t. They wouldn’t listen to him, and everything – being taken by the Galra, escaping the prison, coming back to Earth – had been for nothing. 

But then he jerked awake again, this time on a bed, with violet eyes gazing down upon him, a foreign hand upon his forehead. Shiro reacted on instinct, seizing the enemy’s throat and thrusting his attacker against the nearest wall. His metal hand clenched, holding the person prone even though they scrabbled at his wrist and choked for air. 

And Shiro gasped, startling recognition and immense relief shattering the nightmare that had become reality. 

“Keith?”

In his grip he held his little brother, whose violet eyes shook first in fear and then in resignation. That look – so broken but accepting – equally frightened and soothed Shiro, and his grip loosened. Snatching Keith by both shoulders, Shiro dragged his brother against his chest, and Keith immediately clutched him in return, grip supernaturally strong and unrelenting. They slid to the floor, neither willing to let go. 

Shiro’s arms clamped about Keith’s body as if to shield him from the universe, and he buried his face in his little brother’s hair, reveling in Keith’s unique scent and stifling warmth. Unlike anything Shiro had ever seen before, Keith sobbed, clinging to the front of Shiro’s shirt and burying his face in his chest. The show of such raw emotion on the usually reserved Keith both touched and wounded Shiro, and they huddled together on the floor, arms wrapped around each other in a reaffirming embrace. 

Three cadets – Keith made friends? – hovered in the doorway to assure that yes, they were fine, but Shiro paid them no mind once he realized they wouldn’t attack his brother and him. They must have helped Keith free him from garrison custody. He’d have to thank them later, but right now, he wanted to focus all his attention on his little brother. 

After so much time away, after so much fear and worry, Shiro couldn’t think of anything adequate to say for all the pain he’d caused Keith, so he settled for, “I’m sorry.”

Keith never played the stereotypical little brother role, but he now relaxed, laying his forehead upon Shiro’s chest. “You should be.”

Shiro laughed, perhaps his first real show – and feel – of mirth in such a long time, and he tightened his embrace even more. He was home, and Keith was all right. Nothing had harmed his little brother – and he wasn’t sure why he had been worried but knew on some level he’d been terrified. 

The Galra were coming for their weapon – for Voltron – for _Keith,_ some part of his soul reminded him, but he dismissed that disturbing thought when Keith shifted in his hold. 

“You smell…nice,” he murmured, pressing his nose against Shiro’s chest, then up his collar, tickling Shiro’s sensitive spots. “You totally need a shower, but you don’t smell all that…different...from before.”

No hissing Keith or turned-up nose – instead, Shiro received an adorably complacent Keith who settled in his lap like a contented kitten. The tension melted from Keith’s body as he leaned against Shiro, boneless and pleasant, and Shiro thanked the universe for small miracles. 

_To Be Continued..._


	17. ...It's the Sudden Stop at the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Heavy angst at the end. I don't think it's worse than what you've read in this story, but it is disturbing. Please read with caution.

Shiro couldn’t deny the feeling of déjà vu that swept over him the moment he stepped onto the “tongue” of the Blue Lion. The sound of scampering footsteps, the subsequent clapping of paws upon his shoulders, and then a sudden warmth upon Shiro’s cheeks, like a cat licked him –thankfully, he was the last person to enter. No one saw him stumble and then stare, flabbergasted at nothing before him – though Shiro saw in his mind a rambunctious blue lion, all friendly and excited, dancing around his boots before dashing after Lance. Finally – _Finally,_ her paladin was here, and her pride would be together again – because of Shiro. 

When he found Blue again in the cockpit, Shiro closed his eyes and imagined digging his fingers into Blue’s fur, scratching behind her ears and hearing her purr. 

After Green broke free of her vine constraints, Shiro felt a furry warmth brush against his hip with a trilling purr of appreciation, and when Yellow entered her hanger, a tuff of golden fur caressed Shiro’s jaw and cradled his cheek.

For some reason, as Shiro watched “Kitty Rose” soar out of the ship, he let out a relieved sigh. He hadn’t feared for the other lions’ safety like he had Red’s, and he went with Pidge to find her father and brother in part because he wasn’t sure Red would want to see him, like he unconsciously remembered why she was upon Sendak’s ship. 

But then she was in flight, and in his mind, she snarled, still furious at him, but Shiro brought her paladin to her, for which she would always be grateful. So she once more embraced him, wrapping her tail about his waist and holding him close. 

When Pidge let him out of the Green Lion, the air in the castle hanger was heady, energized with an intoxicating power Shiro couldn't explain. Was this what all the rest of the paladins felt when they found their lions? It was surreal, and yet Shiro had never felt more alive. 

Anticipation prickled upon his skin and swirled his thoughts as he stood before the monolithic door. He soothed Katie's fears on Green’s planet, but the truth was – he wondered, too. Why would the Black Lion choose him out of everyone in the universe to lead Voltron?

The lions sat behind him, and some part of him acknowledged that they bowed to their leader. They had been waiting more than ten thousand years for Black to come for them, and he never did. Couldn't, not without his paladin. And now Shiro – and Allura and Coran, too – assembled the Paladins and lions, and came for Black instead. 

But what if the lions were wrong? What if Allura was? Certainly he – a mere garrison pilot – couldn't be worth the honor of being the Black Lion’s paladin. He couldn’t hope to defeat the ruler of the universe. He was a broken soldier, a prisoner of war, flawed in every way that mattered. Why would the Black Lion ever choose him to be its paladin? 

All his insecurities remained when the Lions' eyes shimmered behind him and the massive door lifted. Shiro’s own eyes rounded as the Black Lion in all its majesty was revealed, and Shiro felt dwarfed in comparison to the mighty beast. 

But then – then Black’s eyes set upon him and glowed a joyful amber, and the lion rose to his feet, letting out a thunderous, mystifying roar that echoed in Shiro's soul. It was wondrous and familiar, as known to Shiro as his own heartbeat. 

The hanger’s floor rocked as the other lions took to their feet as one to celebrate the return of their king. Shiro glanced back at them, mesmerized and awed, and their resounding roars stuck the cords of his own heart. They sounded not just for Black but for him as well. 

Shiro was their king's knight, and he would serve them all faithfully. 

The Black Lion bowed his head and opened his mouth to allow Shiro to enter, and despite his own inadequacies, Shiro rushed forward without hesitation. The universe needed Voltron, and Shiro was the only Black Paladin they had. 

As he stepped into the lion's mouth, that feeling of déjà vu returned full force, and across his forehead swept the brush of warm, velvety fur. He closed his eyes and savored the return of his lion, his fingers curling and diving into the thick, soft mane. 

Something in the back of Shiro's mind weighed heavily against an invisible but tangible barrier, and then the mental block shook and throbbed. Shiro's legs weakened, and he clung to the lion's neck, cringing and panting as the pressure in his mind built. With one last burst of energy, the block shattered, and the Black Lion's life force flowed through Shiro. The sudden warmth overwhelmed him, almost bringing him to his knees. Inside his mind, the Black Lion roared again, and as four familiar voices joined him in revelry, their combined strength caught Shiro before he fell.

 _Always, forever, mine,_ the Black Lion proclaimed. 

Shiro asked a wordless question, and the Black Lion responded with unfathomable earnest, _Mine._

He didn't remember much of his time with the Galra, but this – Shiro knew this fact on a visceral level. The Black Lion was the other half of his soul, and when he sat in the pilot's seat, he felt complete. 

The lion roared again, louder and more enthused. He dared to think it was excited to have a paladin again, and Shiro couldn’t help but laugh. Only his mystical warship would be a black cat.

The Black Lion rumbled in displeasure – he didn't quite understand Shiro's sentiment but he knew enough to take offense – but when Shiro's hands wrapped the controls, the Black Lion positively purred. 

And Shiro thought back, _Mine._

*^*^* 

The rest of his time with the Black Lion blew past in a blur, almost as quickly as the year Shiro spent with the Galra. 

Arus, the Fall of the Castle of Lions, Haxus's death, Balmera, Sendak – he spaced Sendak! – the infamous “space base,” Allura's capture, and then Zarkon. The emperor of the Galra was the original Black Paladin, they discovered, and then the Black Lion ejected Shiro. Shiro would one day have process that, but he dismissed the betrayal he felt and instead, focused on fighting Haggar and then saving Keith. 

The moment he sat back in the Black Lion’s chair, the lion engulfed in a smothering embrace, its paws resting on his shoulders, its chin on his head. 

An apology, though Shiro ignored it to dive back into battle. 

Quickly thereafter, the lions were scattered about the universe. Shiro was stranded on the same planet he found the Red Lion with Sendak, but this time, Keith was by his side and so was –

_Post Zarkon Command System Attack_

_"Matt..."_ Shiro breathed as the Druid's fingers fell from his face. 

He blinked, the present once more coming into focus, and the Black Lion purred in Shiro's mind, trying to comfort him as he attempted to accept everything he did and everything that happened to him during his year as a prisoner. 

He'd killed – innocents and others. He watched as worlds – _this_ world – die, and he'd had his arm torn from him by Keith's father – just for touching the Black Bayard. 

The endless torture at the hands of the Galra Empire – and Sendak's trust in him – sent Shiro reeling, and he collapsed to the ground, hands barely holding himself up. Keith was there then, purple and furry, lifting up Shiro’s arm and ducking underneath it to support him. Keith’s eyes focused upon the Druid, shock and worry evident in his gaze. 

_”Matt?”_ ” he rasped. “Is that you?”

They’ve met a few times over the year and a half Shiro trained for the Kerberos mission. Usually after late-night simulations, a few study sessions here and there, one or two dinners at the Holts, and one painful birthday celebration at a bar right off campus that Shiro wanted to forget but somehow couldn’t. 

Matt had never been close to Keith, but they’d been friends. 

So the look of pure elation on Keith’s face was not lost on Shiro when the Druid’s mask came away. Though his tired, broken eyes still created some discomfort in Shiro’s chest, it melted the moment that familiar snarky smile brightened Matt’s face. 

“Hey, guys. You’ve looked better. Having a bad day?”

Keith’s ears twitched and lowered, like he was not amused, but Shiro let out a gruff laugh. “What are you talking about? Didn’t you know ‘roughed up and leaking quintessence’ is in this year?”

Keith bristled immediately, eyes darting to Shiro’s side again, but Shiro just lifted a shaky hand to scratch behind the furry purple ears. The young Galra immediately relaxed, eyes slipping shut for only a moment. Then they shot wide again, accusing Shiro of evil deeds with just one glare, and Shiro smiled sheepishly. 

“Be happy I don’t have catnip,” he muttered, to which Keith snorted, “You want me to drop you here? Right now? Cuz I will.”

“And that would be bad,” Matt interjected as metal grinded against the rocks that closed off the canyon. “I can hold them off for a little while but not forever.”

Cringing through the pain, Shiro made it back to his feet with Keith’s help. “There’s a cavern up ahead. We may be able to hide there for a little while, catch our bearings and come up with a plan.”

Keith nodded and stumbled forward, but then Matt ducked underneath Shiro’s opposite arm to assist. Slowly but steadily, they managed to make it to the cavern opening with only Shiro gasping and wincing when the throbs of pain overwhelmed him. Keith just held him tighter, but he stopped when the red markings glowed in front of him. Though Red was no longer in the cavern, the energy remained and pulsated just for Keith. 

Shiro grinned when his purple markings accompanied the red. 

After they maneuvered through the doorway, Matt left Shiro to Keith to cover their tracks, and then rejoined them just as the rock corridor opened to the spectacular cavern that once housed the Red Lion. The lava waterfall still flowed into the magma pool, but as they stepped onto the main floor, the wall behind the pool broke open, spilling lava in loud claps onto the cavern’s floor. Thankfully, the amount of steaming liquid didn’t threaten them, instead drizzling down small lava tubes into the far corners of the room. 

The red and purple marking banished the dark shadows from the middle of the cavern. The night sky now acted as the cavern’s ceiling, a by-product of Shiro driving the Red Lion, but it added a cool contrast to the red and purple tinted cave. 

Shiro grunted as Keith helped him down to one of the larger boulders, the same boulder where Sendak had rested, but Shiro ignored that small fact as Matt sucked in a deep breath. 

“That’ll hold them off for some time but too long.” Matt turned to Keith, eying him up and down before reaching his gloved hand to Keith’s fluffy ears. 

Keith slapped his hand away. 

Shiro let out a haggard laugh, pressing his metal hand against his wounded side. The purple still shone, bright and cheerfully, like it mocked his fight with death, but it was no longer a losing battle. 

“First things first – we fix up my side. Then, we’ll figure out a way to take out the Galra.”

Matt eyed him suspiciously, arms crossing over his chest. “You know how dangerous that is. Even if you happen to do it right – ”

“Do what right?” Keith interjected. 

Matt ignored him. “ – it’s going to hurt like hell. You might even pass out before you finish the job and then die from exhaustion and quintessence loss.”

“What are you talking about? Shiro, what he is talking about?”

Shiro let out a breathless laugh. “If you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”

“Shiro!” Keith demanded, concern tainting his voice. 

Shiro locked gazes with Keith for a split second before he crumpled, glancing away. “I…I remember now. Everything. Matt – He gave me my memories back from when I was a prisoner, and – and I remember how I lost my arm. A Galra officer –” _your father_ – “ – cut it off during a quintessence transference between the lions and me. It left my soul open and quintessence pouring out, like this.” He shuttered from the memory but pressed forward, knowing Keith wanted to hear this, even if he didn’t want to tell it. “Zarkon was able to close my soul using the power of the Black Bayard.”

“But we don’t have that now,” Keith wondered out loud.

“No, but we have this.” Shiro lifted his Galra hand. “Its power comes from the Black Bayard. Zarkon used it to attract the lions.”

“Is that how they always find us?”

Matt met his questioning gaze and shrugged. “Makes sense. If the power comes from the Black Bayard, it’s possible for Zarkon’s weapon to follow its own energy.”

Shiro cursed under his breath. “So we might have drastically less time than we thought to come up with a plan.”

Water sloshed behind Keith and Matt, and Shiro followed their gaze to the lava pool in the corner of the room. The lava now flowed over in waves, creeping closer and closer toward Keith. It never quite reached him but began to curve a circle of magma around his feet. 

He furled an eyebrow. “I hope this isn’t normal for…y’know…my kind.”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Shiro muttered, though Matt’s eyes widened. 

“Depends upon what you mean by ‘kind.’ If you mean ‘Galra,’ then no, it’s not, but if you mean ‘paladin,’ then…well, you can thank me now cuz I know how we’re get out of this – and quite possibly save the universe.”

Shiro sought Keith’s eyes, and his little brother looked just as confused as him, shrugging as if to say, _He’s your crazy friend._

Matt glanced back at the lava, which now almost created a full circle about Keith’s feet, and then up to the sky. “You guys are the Defenders of the Universe, right? Well, you’re also the Guardians of certain elements.”

Keith shrugged. “I…guess?”

“Then maybe it’s time you started acting like it.”

Matt drew Keith away then, as if he knew Shiro wouldn’t want his little brother to see this. Standing on the edge of the magma pool, the lava now rushing from the fall’s source, Matt kept Keith occupied while Shiro unhooked his belt and placed the leather part between his teeth – to stifle his scream and keep him from biting off his tongue. 

Black and Red both mewled in the back of his mind, not happy with his choice, but not offering any solutions. They knew the risks and approved because they had no other options. 

Taking a steeling, heavy breath, Shiro activated his Galra arm, the power thrumming with a low buzz, and pressed it against his wound. 

The leather couldn’t adequately silence his bloodcurdling scream as the supernatural energy sent a searing agony through his body in waves. He’d survived through endless pain, unbelievable humiliation, and unspeakable tortures at the hands of the Galra Empire, so this he could handle, though it sent tears streaming from his eyes and forced a muffled shriek from his mouth. 

The horrible stench of burnt skin and blood swept through the air, and between his stifled screams and burning flesh, Keith’s ears and noses twitched relentlessly. Shiro barely saw him turn, too caught up in his own suffering, and Keith’s frightened shrill only skimmed the edge of his hearing. 

But Matt was there, holding the struggling Keith back as Shiro’s hand shook, his entire body revolting against the searing agony he forced himself to endure. He waited, both his flesh and soul smoldering as he cauterized them simultaneously. Then he deactivated his arm and fell forward. Keith’s cradling arms caught him, helping to situated him back upon the boulder. 

“Are you insane?” he chastised. “You can’t just close a hole torn open by quintessence with your hand.”

Matt sounded distant but impressed. “I think he can.”

With Keith kneeling before him, Shiro could press his tear-stained face against his brother’s shoulder. The pain lingered and remained sharp with every breath until his entire body rebelled, jerking with violent, ruthless wretches. Throughout it all, Keith rubbed his back and held him tightly, grounding him in the present and offering solace with his soft fur and familiar scent. 

With the help of Black, Shiro’s soul settled once more into his skin, leaving him warm and exhausted, wrung out in a way not even the harshest lessons at the garrison could make him feel. He somehow found the strength to flinch when unfamiliar fingers brushed his side, but Keith kept him steady when Matt inspected the damage. The Druid came away looking mildly impressed. 

“Looks terribly done but effective. Can you still hear the lions?”

Black and Red purred in the back of his mind, and Shiro imagined them huddled together like kittens, tails entwined. They came up from behind him to rub against his side in comfort and elation. Keith mimicked Red, settling against Shiro and wrapping an arm about Shiro’s upper torso, mindful of the still fresh wounds. 

Shiro draped an arm across Keith’s shoulders, drawing him even closer. “It’s okay, kiddo. It’s going to be okay. _I’m_ going to be okay.”

Keith shuddered, and Shiro marveled yet again how Keith could battle an entire Galra fleet – Zarkon himself – without so much as flinching. But the moment something happened to Shiro, he crumbled. One day, they’d have that discussion Shiro never wanted to have about life and death and being a leader during wartime. 

He refused to acknowledge the months of torture he endured for no other reason than he refused to give up Keith’s identity. 

But first – they needed to live through this situation, and though Shiro put up a strong front, he could admit to himself the odds were not in their favor. Both their lions were incapacitated – Red too hurt to fight, Black still rebooting his systems from the hostile takeover – and Shiro just closed his wounds and clung onto consciousness as best he could. Keith could still fight, but he would fail against a whole fleet of Galra soldiers and sentries with his bayard as his only weapon. And where did Matt stand in all this? He helped them, but would he fight _for_ them? 

Shiro refused to voice his concerns. He need to stay positive for Keith’s sake, so clenching his teeth, he pushed back the pain as best he could and rubbed his brother’s back. Red rumbled, helping to calm Keith’s frayed nerves, and then Shiro brought him completely down, muttering, “It’s okay now. I’m all right. We’re going to get through this, you and me and Matt. And then we’re going to find the others.”

“How?” Keith’s voice raised no higher than a whisper, but Black was there, too, now laying his head in Keith’s lap. 

Matt stood before them, violet power glowing between his hands. “I’m going to teach you, right here, right now, how to use the power given to you by the Red Lion to repel the advancing forces.”

“Why Keith?” Shiro interjected, not letting go of his brother just yet. If anything, his clenching hand tightened. 

Matt shrugged. “He’s prettier, even with the fur.”

“Matt!”

“Aaaaaand he’s stronger than you right now – what with having all his quintessence – plus I don’t know what your power is, Guardian of the Sky. I do know his, though.” 

“Which is – ”

Rock exploded, flooding the cavern with dust and debris, and though he couldn’t see through it, Shiro knew the Galra had found them. 

He reacted on instinct, wincing through the pain to grab Keith and shove him to the ground. Matt disappeared, blending back into the shadows, and Shiro didn’t blame him. He only hoped Matt stayed safe. 

“Shift back into your human form,” Shiro muttered as a momentarily shock of surprise shivering through his system. Why hadn’t Keith switched back earlier – unless...

Panic immediately swept through Keith’s gaze. “I-I can’t!”

Shiro made sure to keep his voice pitched to soothe, though it was tight and rushed. “It’s all right. Just breathe and focus – ”

“Shiro! I can’t change back!” 

That must have never happened before, if Keith’s frantic voice was any indication, so Shiro placed a comforting hand on his brother’s head and forced himself to breathe. “Stay quiet and keep your head down.” Even worse than being a Paladin of Voltron was being a traitor to the Galra Empire. “Once I handle the sentries, then we can – ” 

“No,” Keith disagreed, his sword appearing in a glimmer of red. “We go together.”

“Keith, I don’t have time to – ”

“You’re right. _We_ don’t.” Keith flung his sword, taking out of the first sentry that escaped the dust behind Shiro. “Let’s go!” 

Shiro sighed, held in a wince, and followed his little brother. They fought back-to-back, Shiro blocking shots with his Galra arm, Keith with this blade. Keith did most of the work, lunging and swiping, only letting a choice few sentries through, which Shiro destroyed with efficient but painful swipes. 

With a resounding growl, Commander Prorock tore through the dust, lunging at the gasping Shiro. Shiro managed to repel his attack, but it drove him to the side and away from Keith – who now stood opposite an older cat with graying hair and a stern expression. 

Thace. 

Shit. 

Prorock snorted and placed a hand over his thigh; a blaster materialized in his hand. Shiro rushed forward, kicked up the gun, punched Prorock as hard as he could, and tossed him aside. Simultaneously, Keith backflipped, accepted a blow from Thace’s dagger, and then tore forward with a battle cry. 

Shiro snatched him by the collar and dragged him back, placing himself between Keith and Thace. 

“What are you doing here?” Shiro demanded, much to Keith’s bewilderment. 

Thace lifted up as his weapon, eyes narrowing over the hilt. “Commander Prorock and I were commanded by Lord Zarkon to capture you and the Red Paladin.”

“We won’t go quietly, Thace.”

Keith stilled, eyes blowing eye at the name of the Galra officer before Thace snarled, “So you remember now, Champion. Then why is _he_ in his Galra form? I didn’t leave him on Earth just for him to be captured here and branded a traitor.” 

“A Druid did something to him. I’m not sure what – ”

“The witch boy who came with us? He found you?”

“Shiro, what’s – ” Keith’s sniffed over Shiro’s shoulder before his hands tensed, glove fingers digging into Shiro’s forearm. “He-he – Shiro, he _smells_ like us.”

Not “like me,” Shiro noticed. 

But as he turned to face his brother, the loud booming of the sound barrier breaking thundered above them, and a battlecruiser arrived with reinforcements. Prorock’s haughty laughter sounded behind them, and as the dust cleared, Shiro gripped Keith’s wrist, holding him close as they found themselves surrounded by sentries and their blasters. 

“Thace,” Prorock called as he got to his feet. “Contact Lord Zarkon, and let him know we’ve captured the Black and Red Paladins.”

Thace bowed, playing the part of the ever loyal subordinate perfectly. “Yes, Commander.”

After pinning Shiro with a dark glower, Thace lifted his communicator and headed off toward one of the cavern’s alcoves. The Black Paladin made sure to place himself between the approaching Prorock and Keith, though his little brother tried to push him out of the way. But Shiro made a promise to himself during his captivity that he wouldn’t allow the Galra Empire to reclaim Keith, and he would keep that promise. 

“This is most unusual,” Prorock growled, his heated words rough and condemning. “In none of sentries’ or Sendak’s reports did it mention that the Red Paladin is Galra. What sort of spell craft is this?”

Shiro wondered that, too. Matt gave Shiro his memories from his year as prisoner with the raw quintessence he channeled, but it also revealed Keith’s Galra form. His true form, perhaps. 

“Witch!” Prorock called once he stood in front of Shiro, and in a wisp of smoke and black shadows, Matt – dressed in his Druid get-up, complete with his mask – appeared behind Keith. Before either Shiro or Keith could react, Matt pressed his thumbs against Keith’s furry cheekbones. Black and purple strands of magic floated up from Matt’s and Keith’s shoulders, and the yellow of Keith’s Galra eyes darkened to their usual shimmering violet. His skin once more lightened, and though his shape took that of a human’s, he had one startling difference. 

Twin purple markings now colored his pale cheeks – the markings of Altean – and royal – heritage. 

“An Altean royal?” Prorock all but shrieked, and Shiro’s blood ran cold. “So that is why Lord Zarkon wished to be alerted of the Red Paladin’s capture immediately.”

That wasn’t why, Shiro now knew, but Shiro shuttered to think how Zarkon would react to discovering the new Red Paladin was half-Galra, half-Altean. He hated to think of Zarkon ever meeting Keith and what he would do when he realized nothing would bring back the Red Paladin he lost. 

“Shiro…?” Keith sounded so raw, so _frightened,_ in a way Shiro hadn’t ever heard him. He glanced at his unchanged hands before gazing up at Shiro with those glowing purple eyes and now glistening markings on his cheeks. “What…I’m – Altean…? And Galra?”

Those purple eyes shimmered with fresh tears, and Shiro snatched his hand, folding their fingers together. “Accept now, freak later,” he ordered, perhaps a little sharper than he should have, but stricken by panic, Shiro could hardly breathe. 

His mind searched for some way to escape this situation, but the soul-wrenching truth pierced his gut. They would be captured, and if Shiro wasn’t killed instantly, then he would most likely be sent back to the games until he eventually lost his title and his life. 

But Keith – Keith would first be welcomed by Zarkon before being tortured – maybe by the Druids, maybe by the commanders – demanding to know about his physiology. Perhaps Thace could intervene again, but with Zarkon involved, he’d probably be punished for having kept Keith’s identity a secret. 

Now – Shiro could admit as he stood before the leering Prorock – Sendak had been right. He had granted his brother mercy when he killed the cub before he could be conscripted into the Galra Empire, and having lived through the torture once, Shiro clenched his teeth and knew that he would never survive a second time. The cowardly part of him even went so far as to wish Sendak had ended his life before the Druids took him, so he wouldn’t have gone through that unfathomable agony.  
With a glance over his shoulder at the seething yet unnerved Keith, Shiro only needed to imagine his lively and agitated little brother strapped to a similar table, his pitiful shrieks renting the air – and Shiro’s Galra hand clutched in a glowing fist. 

Red snarled in the back of his mind, battling against her failing body. She pushed to her paws only to collapse again, electricity sizzling upon her grinding joints. She had to get to Keith – she wouldn’t fail her paladin again! – while Black let out a ferocious roar. He was the leader. Shiro belonged to him – no, all the paladins belonged to him – and it was his and Shiro’s job to protect their pride. But they couldn’t as Black rebooted his systems from the hostile takeover, and his foolish paladin allowed his fears and insecurities to consume him. 

Because Shiro had watched worlds die. Sendak cursed him to carry that bane every day, and when he glanced down at his arm, all he saw was the chain that would never come off. He refused to let Keith carry similar scars. He wouldn’t allow the Galra to extinguish the passionate fire that burned in Keith, wouldn’t allow the Druids to experiment on his unique body and the commanders to break his will. He wouldn’t let the Galra break his brother down and reforge him into their greatest weapon. 

Shiro wouldn’t allow his brother to become _him._

Surrendering to his worse fears, Shiro knew for a fact that they wouldn’t send him back to the arena. No, his fate was far more sinister. Prorock would deliver him to Haggar, and without Keith to save him, Shiro would break easily. They would once more take over his mind and body, and then he’d become the Galra Empire’s greatest weapon, Zarkon’s Champion. 

That was his fate – but Shiro wouldn’t allow it to his brother’s. He promised himself once he would never let the Galra Empire reclaim Keith, and now he would fulfill that sacred vow. 

As the sentries drew closer, ready to tear the paladins apart, Shiro tugged Keith against his chest and pressed a tender kiss to his little brother’s hair. His hand no longer shook, set firm by the conviction of his duty, and he activated the quintessence of his weapon. Huh. What a cruel joke. Whereas the Black Paladin went on a ten-thousand-year rampage because of the Red Paladin’s death, the new Black Paladin was going to end the Red Paladin’s life – and by the very same quintessence that ran through the Black Bayard. 

Matt stood by, and perhaps – perhaps he said nothing because he agreed, because somewhere he knew if Katie stood before the Druids, he would do the same thing. He couldn’t allow his kid sibling to go through the same torture he endured. 

Just like Shiro couldn’t let Keith go through the torture he barely survived. He couldn’t let his brother know that such agony existed. He needed to save him, and Shiro could only think of one way to do that. 

And it would be his final act of mercy. 

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading some posts about Keith and the Black Lion on Tumblr, I wrote some thoughts upon it. Here's the post if you're interested - [Re: "Keith, if I don't make it out of here...](http://ptw30.tumblr.com/post/155550116089/re-keith-if-i-dont-make-out-of-here)


	18. The Guardians of Fire and Sky

The lions remained silent in the back of Shiro’s mind. Perhaps he’d drowned them out. Maybe he refused to hear them, or perhaps they severed their connection with him. But as he cradled Keith’s shoulders with his human hand and raised his glowing Galra fist to the back of his brother’s neck, Red and Black didn’t speak. 

Keith’s hair tickled Shiro’s jaw as his little brother shifted in his grip and glanced upwards. He wasn’t afraid. Confused and bewildered, but not afraid. And so very _young._

“Shiro?” Keith asked, and Shiro ducked his head, shame and heart-break tearing him apart. 

He forced his trembling hand straight again to create a makeshift blade. One slice. One fluid movement, and the Galra Empire would never reclaim his little brother. 

“Separate and surrender,” Prorock ordered with a devious leer. “The emperor requested your presence, too, Champion, but he didn’t say in what state.” 

The veiled threat struck Shiro in the gut harder than any physical blow – and yet – and yet…he couldn’t move his hand. 

Why couldn’t he do it? Why couldn’t he grant Keith mercy like Sendak had granted his brother? Why couldn’t he save Keith where he couldn’t save himself?

As his hand glowed behind Keith’s bedraggled hair, the tears fell. They blurred his vision, preventing him from seeing the illuminous effect of Keith’s limitless eyes, but Keith reigned him in, better than Shiro ever did him. He reached behind him, and Shiro managed to lessen the power to his Galra hand, though it still glowed, casting shadows across Keith’s intense expression. 

“Don’t give up on me,” Keith murmured, his firm grip draining Shiro’s hand of its terrible power. “Never give up on me, Shiro.”

That wasn’t it. It had nothing to do with mental or physical strength, but unaltered fear. Keith had no clue of the agony that awaited him, the unspeakable horrors and the emotional turmoil that would never end, but Shiro did. And still – he couldn’t do it. 

_“I’m sorry,”_ Shiro whispered, lips against his brother’s soft strands. _“I’m sorry, Keith.”_

Then he activated his Galra hand again, and when Keith’s eyes flew wide, he pivoted and buried it directly in a sentry’s chest, tearing out its metal heart. 

The lions returned then, resounding with thunderous roars as Keith and Shiro once more went back to back. When Keith pressed his back against Shiro’s, just to feel his presence, Shiro steeled his will. 

“Survive, Keith.” Nothing else mattered. “Just survive.”

A growling battle cry stole Shiro’s attention, and Shiro accepted a vicious blow from Prorock. In his injured state, Shiro couldn’t keep up his Champion persona, and a vicious kick slammed into Shiro’s cheek, snapping his jaw back and sending him to the ground. He shook his head with one violent jerk, but two Prorocks still stood before him – as if one wasn’t bad enough. 

“The Champion – so strong and mighty in the ring, brought to his knees before me.” Prorock came to stand before him, a sinister smile etched upon his face. “Allow me to take your title.”

Keith growled behind him, sounding suspiciously like the Red Lion – or maybe now they were one and the same. It was hard for Shiro to focus. Black remained silent, though Shiro doubted he would for long. 

Clenching his teeth, Shiro went up on his knees to block a swift kick with his forearms and then swiped his legs, bringing Prorock down. He managed to right himself and clutch his still wounded side, but Prorock recovered all too quickly.

They traded blows and attacks, and Shiro cringed but kept his cool as best he could, grunting and gasping. When Prorock thrust his boot into Shiro’s hurt side, he let out a surprised cry. Somewhere, Prorock produced a purple-tinted blade, and crimson splattered upon the ground. Shiro followed a moment later, dazed and worn out, unable to focus as his side throbbed in agony. 

Prorock muttered something over Shiro’s head, and then Red grumbled, his voice getting lower and lower in Shiro’s mind. She was planning something – or Keith was, at least – but it wouldn’t be fast enough. 

“Shiro!” Keith yelled from somewhere. “Let go of me!”

Prorock let out a braying laugh, crimson-tainted blade dripping as he neared Shiro. “I wonder what they’ll call me after I kill the Champion.”

Prorock hadn’t even finished his sentence before molten lava seared across his fur, causing him to drop the blade and scamper away. Streams of lava burned through sentries, melting their metal bodies rather than tearing them down, and fire continued swirling about Shiro and attacking the nearby sentries first before smoldering the rest. 

Shiro glanced over his shoulder to see Keith out in front of Thace, his hands extended toward the lava flow, an unabashed look of joy upon his face. 

“Whoa! Shiro – look what I can do!”

Shiro loved how _innocent,_ despite everything, Keith still was. 

“I can see,” he managed to gasp, and then Shiro spat, ridding his mouth of blood and salvia. “Great job, kiddo!”

“Thanks – Shiro! Look out!”

Prorock recovered – or as best he could – and lunged at Shiro again, only to be met with singing purple light. Matt stepped in front of Shiro, his Druid garb flowing about him like he stood in the middle of a tornado. 

Matt and Keith bookended Shiro and worked collectively to rid the cavern of the sentries, but it wouldn’t be enough. They kept coming, supplied by the Galra battlecruiser hovering in the cavern’s skyscape. Dread pooled low and bitter in Shiro’s stomach as he watched the red glow of Galra fighters emerge from the cruiser’s hanger. 

“I hate to sound like a broken sentry who’s been hacked and only gives the same answer over and over, but we’re not going to make it!” Matt yelled after he shed his mask. The first fighter fired upon their location, and the blasts slammed into what was left of the curved roof. Rocks crashed into the magma pool, spewing hot lava across the battle. With one swipe, Keith flung the lava flying the other way from Matt. 

When the dust cleared, fighters surrounded their location, ready to destroy them. 

“See?” Matt said as if punctuate his earlier declaration. 

Shiro perhaps leaned a little heavily upon Keith’s shoulder, but he believed his little brother wouldn’t mind. “No, I don’t accept that.” He couldn’t, not with Keith in the middle of this. “We can still win this.”

Matt deflated, though the yellow faded from his eyes and only a dead stare remained. “We’re not going to make it out of this alive, Shiro. For almost two years now, all we’ve done is cheat death, and it’s finally collecting. Why won’t you accept it?”

“Because we’re not dead yet.” 

They couldn’t go out like this. He wouldn’t allow them to, and in the very pit of stomach, a spark of something cool but fierce – like the stars glowing in space – began to spread just under his skin. It ran up his chest, through his heart and flowed down his arms until his hands trembled from the torrent of endless power. 

He remembered this ethereal sensation from the time he piloted the Red Lion. Unlike last time where the pressure built and pushed against a restraint that refused to give – this time, the power ruptured in his core. Tingling spread throughout his body and spun his head, and a ferocious growl tore the landscape, worrying every sentry, commander, Druid, and paladin. 

Wisps of power drifted off Shiro’s shoulders, a dark purple shade that floated toward the heavens in waves. The heady energy throbbed in Shiro’s very soul, energized by the Black Lion himself, and then directly above the now open cavern, space itself shifted and glowed until three wormholes formed. 

Allura – ? How had she – ? No, Allura had never created multiple wormholes. Then…perhaps this was his power as the Guardian of the Sky? Was he be able to form wormholes? 

“Shiro?” Keith squeezed on of his hands. “Shiro, is t-that – ”

Shiro’s eyes shot open, and in his mind, he heard the enthused roars of his pride. The Blue and Yellow Lions exited first, zooming through one of the wormholes, followed by the Castle of Lions, and finally the Green Lion. 

The Galra battleship immediately sought out prey, dispatching fighters to engage the lions while the castle hovered for a few moments before taking off toward points unknown. Shiro guessed Allura and Coran went for the Red and Black Lions, but without their helmets, Shiro and Keith couldn’t be certain of the battle strategy. 

“I only hope Lance isn’t the one in charge,” Keith spat, but his fond tone betrayed his snide remark.

Shiro smiled and dipped his fingers into Keith’s hair, ruffling the ragged strands before glancing at Matt, who stood frozen at the awesome sight above them. Green, Blue, and Yellow fought as one, despite not being joined, covering each other tails and clawing through the fighters like a pack of – whatever Coran called them once. Perhaps they hadn’t fought hundreds of battles side by side, but the Paladins of New fought as one unit – whether combined as Voltron or as five lions. 

Not one dropped to the ground for extraction, and when two fierce roars sounded once more, echoing in Shiro’s soul, he knew why. Against him, Keith jerked, too, having been caught off guard by their blaring battle cries. 

By Keith’s concerned gaze, Red wasn’t up to a hundred percent power yet, and Black, too, was recovering from his hostile takeover. They both felt it in their own faltering bodies, their quintessence connected to their lions’, but somehow, Allura must have been able to recharge the lions enough for flight capabilities. And a moment later, the Black Lion soared above the cavern’s opening. 

Prorock – or Thace? – must have given an order, and the sentries restarted their attacks. Pushing Keith out of the way, Shiro blocked the laser blasts with his hand. It was only a temporary solution. Red and Black dropped to the desert landscape and lowered their heads, tearing down what was left of the cavern’s roof. 

They opened their mouths, welcoming their paladins inside, and Shiro whirled toward Keith to shout, “Get in your lion!” before swinging toward Matt. “Let’s go!”

Matt started, then stopped, and in the corner of Shiro’s eye, he caught his hesitation. “What are you doing? Let’s move!”

“I-I can’t.” Matt’s hands clenched at his thighs before he glanced back at Prorock, who was slumped, unconscious, against the far wall. Thace was alert, kneeling before his commander and keeping his weapon trained upon them just in case. “Shiro, they’re going to go back to the empire. If I don’t – my father – they’ll – you know I can’t!”

Shiro took a menacing step forward. “I’m not going up there and telling Katie I left her brother with the Galra. It’s not happening, Matt!”

“K-Katie?” Matt fumbled, eyes narrowing in reproach. “Shiro, what the hell does Katie have to do with anything? She’s back on – ”

“No, Matt, she’s not. Katie’s – ”

A harrowing shrill sounded just behind Shiro, cut off by blaster fire, and then a sudden force shoved Shiro to the ground. 

“Keith!” Shiro maneuvered Keith off him and belatedly noticed the crimson smearing his chest plate and gloves. 

His brother must have saw him speaking with Matt and when the fighters blasted into the cavern, rushed to protect him – again. The Red Lion took care of the attackers with one paw, but the damage had been done. Keith lay unconscious in Shiro’s arms, and Shiro’s heart failed to beat again until he felt the unsteady but _sure_ thump of Keith’s pulse under his fingertips. 

Matt wove a shield of purple quintessence about them as Shiro gathered his brother into his arms, leaning Keith’s head against his shoulder. He leveled Matt with a condemning glower. 

“Get in my lion.”

“Katie’ll understand. Dad – ”

“Like hell! Matt, your father wouldn’t want you to be tortured and oppressed by the Galra. You can’t just – ”

“Like you can talk! You refused to tell the Galra about Keith – ”

“He’s my little brother, Matt! It’s my job to protect him, and he just took several laser blasts to keep us alive!” He stood then, sweeping Keith easily into his arms, and for the first time, he was grateful to Haggar for all the enhancements she made to his body. “Now shut up and get in my lion already!”

Matt held on for one more second before taking off in a full-out sprint toward the open Black Lion’s mouth. With the hair prickling on the back of his neck, Shiro glanced over his shoulder to lock eyes with Thace, who watched him closely. 

He briefly thought Thace would argue to take his son, but perhaps the Galra officer understood Keith could never be safe in the empire. The Red Paladin always aligned with the Black. Fate or destiny – whatever it was called – took Keith from Thace, and the older Galra accepted the loss a long time ago. 

Thace said nothing – perhaps there was nothing to say – but he nodded in a slow, deliberate movement. 

It said, _Protect my son._

Shiro failed this time. He wouldn’t again. 

He returned the gesture, hoping it brought some comfort to Thace, and took off toward the Black Lion. 

Red growled a terrifying warning to Shiro not to threat or harm her paladin again, and Shiro bowed his head, projecting his intense sorrow for the matter. She wasn’t mollified, but she allowed him to take Keith into the Black Lion for now. 

And Black reprimanded Shiro the moment he sat down in his pilot’s chair. Shiro responded by pressing his forehead against Black’s metaphysical form, and Red joined them, coiling her tail about Keith’s legs and coming to his side. She sent Matt a rather hostile snarl but remained near her paladin. 

“You should give him to me,” Matt interjected, but Shiro responded with a scathing glare. 

“I’ve got him,” and he secured Keith to his chair with one of his restraints, so the boy’s head rested upon his shoulder, his legs thrown over the arm rest. Shiro cradled his back but managed to grab the controls, much to Black’s delight. 

As Black’s thrusters rumbled and the warship took to the sky, Matt held onto the back of Shiro’s seat. “You know I could heal him, right?”

“So you’re an expert on half-Galra, half-Altean biology, huh?”

“I weave the fabric of the universe with my hands. I think I can make my way around one half-breed.”

Red growled an unveiled threat. 

“Why don’t we leave the healing to the cryo-pods, okay?” Shiro offered before he jerked a quick glare over his shoulder. “Wait – do you really weave the fabric of the universe?”

Matt’s eyes glowed a vile yellow for less than a moment before they settled back into their usual darker color, and when he refused to add any commentary, Shiro let them. 

The Black Lion’s console lit up as it came online, illuminating with familiar, friendly faces of his pride. In his mind, the lions pounced on him all of once, licking and caressing and – and they all became somber, brushing against Keith in attempt to awaken him, even as their paladins celebrated their reunion. 

“Shiro! You’re all right!”

“Paladins! It is so good to see you.”

“You guys are okay!”

“Oh, dear. You boys seem to be in a quite – ”

“Shiro! I-Is that Keith? What’s wrong with him?”

The last one was Lance, worried in a way only he could be, and Shiro’s heart went out to him. “I need to get Keith into a cryo-pod, guys. You think you can watch my back for a few moments?”

Matt’s hand hardened on the back of Shiro’s chair. “…Katie?” he whispered, but Shiro ignored him as the Black Lion bit through a fighter. 

“Paladins, this is a battle we do not have to win,” Allura announced in that crisp, royal tone that always managed to enamor Shiro. “I’ve scanned the entire planet. There’s no populations or cities. It appears the Galra already evacuated this planet some time ago – or perhaps there were no civilizations at all.”

The Red Lion let out a pained mewl, and Shiro tipped his head back against the rest. Right now, he couldn’t deal with the overwhelming grief. Instead, he listened to the haggard breaths Keith managed to take and hit the accelerator. The Black Lion rocketed toward the Castle of Lions, the Red Lion directly on his tail. 

“Everyone, back to the hangers. Let’s get out of here.” 

A trio of affirmatives answered him. 

Shiro maneuvered the Black Lion about the fighters, slicing through those in his path with a jaw blade. Blue and Green flew on his flanks and stopped the Galra who attacked the Red Lion, while Yellow brought up their rear. Matt remained silent throughout the short journey, only speaking as they approached the castle. 

“How could you bring my sister into this?” he demanded in a low, menacing voice that carried an unspoken threat. “Shiro, you know what the Galra – ”

“I didn’t bring Katie into anything.” Shiro’s hands tightened about the controls as he swung Black toward their hanger. “The Green Lion chose her. And hey. You want to tell me what you did to Keith? He couldn’t shift earlier.” 

“The raw quintessence just un-stabilized his molecules, which kept him Galra for what—like three minutes,” Matt dismissed as if he’d merely tripped Keith. “I realigned them, which made him shift into his default bodily form. He’s fine.” A moment later, he added as if sensing Shiro’s irritation. “…y’know, other than the laser wounds.” 

Shiro blinked as the cockpit lights brightened once they entered the Black Lion’s tunnel. “Keith’s never shifted into an Altean form before. He’s always been Galra – ”

“Probably because he didn’t know. He probably took the form of the parent he was closest to, kinda like he’s been human for the last…oh, I don’t know. How many years have you known him? Get the kid near an Altean, and he’ll probably shift into that, too.” He waved his hand as Shiro cut the thrusters and began to lower Black. “And hey. Don’t change the subject. Out of the all the people in the universe, you had to choose my sister to be one of the – ”

Shiro didn’t have time for this. “Later – after I get Keith into a cryo-pod.” And he was up, racing past Matt and rushing to the medical bay. 

Matt didn’t follow him, but Shiro couldn’t address it. Not now, when Keith needed him. Coran already set up a table for Shiro to place Keith and after a slap upon the back and a “You did a fine job of protecting your teammate, Paladin,” went to work on treating Keith’s wounds before placing him a cryo-pod. 

Shiro fought the urge to correct Coran – Keith wasn’t just his teammate – but there was no need. He revered Keith as his brother and didn’t need anyone’s confirmation. And today, he certainly didn’t deserve any praise. 

The rest of the team joined them after a few moments. Pidge lunged first, latching onto Shiro with incredible strength. Lance followed, and then Hunk wrapped them all in a reassuring bear hug. The castle jerked with the sudden start of a wormhole jump, and once they exited, Allura joined them.

Shiro’s breath hitched at the sight of her, and even with her ruffled bun and exhaustion lines, Allura was absolutely beautiful. He wanted to sweep her up and hold her in his arms until he could never forget the feel of her soft skin and the strawberry scent of her hair, but that would have to wait. His arms were full with the pride, and shutting his eyes and tightening his grip, he cherished every moment with them. 

They’d taken on Zarkon and the Galra Empire. They rescued Allura, though his side had been torn open. And they managed, somehow, to find a way back to each other after being scattered in the far reaches of the universe. Now Keith was healing, tucked safely away in a cryo-pod. And finally – finally, Shiro could relax with his four cubs, Coran, and Allura about him along with the five reassuring purrs that echoed in his soul. 

They stayed like that for a long time, simply huddled in each other’s warmth and steady presence, not one of them daring to let go. 

_To Be Continued..._


	19. Shower and Chillax

“Shiro, no offense, you’re a genius, but sometimes, you can be soooo dense,” Lance interjected, leaning an elbow upon the Black Paladin’s shoulder. “In our first training session, we all got to rummage around in each other’s headholes. Of course we saw you being a yellowed-eye bad-ass and Keith a big purple fur ball.”

Shiro let out a terse sigh. He’d spent the last six months lying to Keith about his heritage and Keith being so nervous about his Galra heritage being revealed – for nothing. The team had known their secrets since Day Two. 

They gathered in front of Keith’s cryo-pod in a semi-circle, all the paladins ditching their top armor and nursing warm cups of Nunvill. Shiro sat the closest to Keith while Allura took the spot directly across from him. Lance leaned back upon his hands with his ankles crossed and Pidge and Hunk on either side of him. Coran fluttered about the room, giving each paladin a thorough medical exam. 

Coran had demanded that Shiro receive his first, especially after Allura placed a gentle but cool hand upon his bloodied and burned side. Her already exhausted face paled with concern before her eyes flew wide and shimmering. 

“Haggar sliced your quintessence. We have to get the Black Bayard to – ”

“It’s all right, Princess,” he smiled, his hand falling to hers. “I closed the wound.”

“B-But – how is that possible? You need – ”

Shiro lifted up his Galra arm. “It’s powered by the Black Bayard. It’s how Zarkon was able to locate the Blue Lion on Earth after he retrieved the Red Lion.”

The entire room stopped then, every Paladin and royal gazing at him with earnest confusion. Shiro barely managed to murmur, “I remember now. Everything. I – I’m the reason Zarkon keeps finding us. I’m the reason he knew Blue was on Earth. He’s been using me since he discovered I’m the new Black Paladin.”

Fear seized him instantly. Would they hate him for being the reason Zarkon kept finding him? Would the others ask him about his missing year? What would he say, that he eventually surrendered to Haggar and became a weapon for the Galra? Black rumbled in the back of his mind and then came to lay by Shiro’s legs, head rubbing against Shiro’s belly. The gentle pressure soothed Shiro, and whatever the Paladins asked, he’d answer to the best of his ability – or not answer, if he so chose. The paladins were his family, and they’d accept him no matter what. 

But instead of asking a million questions, Pidge appeared unannounced at Shiro’s side, scooping up his Galra arm. “I wonder if it’s powered by some sort of battery? Or maybe a bayard frequency of some type?”

“Maybe even a generator of some kind,” Hunk added. 

With a furious nod, Pidge began to fiddle with Shiro’s arm, and Hunk joined her after a few moments, excitement glistening in his eyes as well. “I wonder if we can make a dampener for it.”

Shiro cringed, not quite comfortable with them taking such a cavalier attitude toward a deadly weapon – and his arm – but thankfully, Coran came to his rescue. 

“Enough of that for now. The scanners will alert us if we have any unwanted visitors, and Shiro needs medical attention before you can give him any mechanical attention.” 

Or maybe not. 

Coran worked quickly, performing clean-up and patchwork to his side before announcing Shiro needed to spend some time in the cryo-pod to heal his physical and metaphysical wounds. 

But Shiro refused. Instead, he sat on the first step down from Keith’s pod and prepared to wait the entire twelve hours until his little brother emerged all healed. 

Coran disapproved, sharing a look of exasperated concern with Allura, but before the princess could persuade Shiro, Lance and Hunk took their respective spots on the floor, followed by Pidge, and then they surrendered, too, content to eat and chat. 

Lance, like always, kept Shiro’s mind from falling into the abyss. “You think when Keith gets out of the cryo-pod, he’ll let me scratch behind his ears?” 

“No,” came the answer in stereo, though Shiro had to smother his laughter. Oh, he couldn’t wait for Keith to emerge from his healing sleep. 

“I want to scratch behind his ears,” the Blue Paladin insisted with a shrug. “When he’s in Galra form, obviously. Not like this.”

“So what he is exactly?” Pidge asked, cocking her head to the side and fidgeting with her glasses. “Half-Galra and half-Altean…or whatever they are calling it these days?”

“He is Altean,” Allura replied with a reproachful air, “and he is Galra.”

“And human!” Hunk shouted. 

“Not quite, actually,” Coran interjected, coming to sit at the princess’s side. “Keith had simply appeared to be human while he was on your planet.”

Lance made an obnoxiously rude noise. “Please. He has a mullet _and_ thought a bandana would hide his identity. There isn’t anything more human than that.”

Allura blinked and formed her response with careful diction. “I do not believe either of those traits are specific to your kind.”

Lance took offense to “kind,” but Shiro simply laughed and relaxed. As he leaned back against a nearby cryo-pod, he grunted a bit louder than he would have liked and quickly covered it with, “Let’s not all stake our territory on Keith. He’s a member of Voltron and our friend. He doesn’t need anymore labels than that.”

While Hunk and Pidge slumped with the reprimand, Allura herself looked the most stricken, somber and downcast. Coran patted her shoulder and glanced up, taking some pleasure, it seemed, from the two markings on Keith’s cheeks. Lance, however, hitched a cheeky little smirk. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Hold on! It’s okay that Keith here does that weird rubbing-against-us-and-spreading-his-scent thing, but we’re not allowed to do the same?”

“Last time I checked, you weren’t Galra,” Allura interjected. “Scent-marking is a Galra trait.”

“So Keith gets to have all the fun?” Pidge snorted. “That hardly seems fair.”

Shiro just sighed with his own pleased grin and glanced up at his healing little brother. Before they met at the garrison, Keith had no one, and now he had three different species – lifeforms? – trying to claim him as theirs. 

_You finally have a family, kiddo,_ which included his once bitter rival, two aliens, two incredibly brilliant cadets, and Shiro.

When Shiro turned toward Lance, he stopped, eyebrows rising. Lance leaned back, propped up by something behind him, and originally, Shiro thought it was the paladin’s elbows. Now he saw the Blue Lion curled about Lance from behind, purring in delight when Lance’s hand fell to pet her head.

Shiro’s eyes shifted to Hunk, who dropped his bowl low enough to give Yellow a taste. Green sat on her haunches behind Katie, head propped upon the Green Paladin’s shoulder, seemingly reading the datapad Katie used, while despondent Red whined as she limped to Keith’s cyro-pod. Her ears drooped and eyes widened, trembling, and then she simply lay at the foot of the pod, ready to protect Keith or smother him the moment he exited. 

Shiro gasped. The other paladins could see the lions, too, or just their own? 

Before he could ask, a rumble of concern sounded by his ear, and he instinctively leaned back into the welcoming and warm embrace of his lion. Black laid his head upon Shiro’s, tucking his paladin under his chin to relax him. Perhaps that was why all the lions came to their paladins. This battle had been close, too close, and it took its toll on all of them. And they just wanted to be close to the paladins, whom they’d lost for more than ten thousand years. 

Coran cleared his throat, then tapped the paladins on the shoulders. “Come on. It’s been quite the adventure. Keith won’t be out of the pod for another ten hours, so let’s get you all showered and rested. Then you can greet him looking less like a pack of wharhowls and more like your usual selves, which may or may not be a good thing.” 

Though Lance grumbled loudly and Pidge rolled her eyes, Hunk sent one last worried glance at Keith. After Shiro nodded to him – he’d watch over Keith – Shiro was alone with Allura and Black. He glanced up at his brother, content to simply watch the steady rise and fall of Keith’s chest, before he whispered, “I’m sorry, Princess.”

Allura tore her worried gaze from Keith to blink. “Whatever for? It wasn’t your fault I was captured, Shiro. I was the one who – ”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he said with perhaps too much relief in his voice, but he meant it. He’d never been so glad to see her than when she came to his side in the Galra hanger. “But that’s not what I was referring to. I’m sorry for keeping Keith from you. It was selfish and wrong and – and if you are his sister – or whatever you may be to him – he should know. And I shouldn’t have hid the truth from him.”

Allura’s hands clenched in her lap, and she glanced away to collect herself and her bearings. Black rumbled behind him, the gentle vibrations in his chest soothing Shiro, even when Allura pinned him with a startling bitter glare. “Yes, that was wrong of you – and not just for what it did to me but for what it did to Coran and Keith.”

Shiro resituated himself with a quick grimace, tipping his head back against Black’s velvety mane. “You don’t have to understand, but Keith and I – ”

“But,” Allura raised her voice, cutting through Shiro’s rationale, “I should have told you about Zarkon and his connection with the Black Lion, and I did not.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes, trying to see through her serious, apologetic gaze, and muttered, “Are you…saying…we’re even?”

Allura’s smile was a tender gift. “You have no other family, do you, Shiro? Other than Keith and the paladins?”

Shiro kept her gaze, refusing to look away, until finally he averted his eyes in acknowledgment. 

“I understand fearing the loss of the only family you have in the universe.” She settled next to him as Black purred again, his meaning clear, though Allura voiced it. “You won’t be alone again, Shiro. You have us now. All of us.” 

She couldn’t promise something like that, but Shiro took selfish comfort in it anyway. He knotted their fingers together, her warm palm against his own, but her grip was strong, too strong. “Ow! Haven’t I been through enough?” he teased. 

Allura quickly released his trembling human hand, and when she smiled sheepishly and offered a gentle apology, he offered his Galra hand. Though he couldn’t feel her heat and his side ached from the pressure on his closed wound, he reveled in her cradling embrace, her head upon his shoulder, her hair caressing his jaw.

Black continued to purr behind him, and if his brother wasn’t still healing, this might have been a perfect moment. 

Eventually, Coran came for Allura as well but seemed to know better than to try to cajole Shiro from his silent vigil. But like Allura promised, Shiro wasn’t alone. 

After petting Black’s mane, his lion huffing and then licking his cheek, Shiro shifted to see Red. Lifting his hand to her, she snapped her jaws and let out a vicious snarl. 

Black might have his own issues to work out with Shiro, but Shiro attacked Red’s paladin. He’d threatened Keith’s life, and she would not forgive him for that. 

Shiro hoped Keith would. 

“For mystical robotic lions, they’re quite lively, aren’t they?”

Shiro didn’t jump when Matt appeared next to him in a flash of violet light and streams of shadows, and with a loud sigh, Shiro settled back against his lion. 

“What did you mean by – I brought Katie in this? I didn’t even know Katie until I crash-landed on Earth.”

Sliding down the side of Keith’s cyro-pod, Matt rested his elbows upon his bent knees and seemed to avoid touching both lions. “Shiro, you know this is all your fault, right?” 

Well, that was probably fair, though he wasn’t sure exactly what “this” was. 

“It starts with the Black Lion. It always starts with the Black Lion. He chooses his paladin, and since the paladins must work as one unit, the Black Paladin chooses the rest.”

That made no sense, but Black bumped his snout against Shiro’s cheek, then rumbled softly in agreement. 

“The Black Lion chose you,” Matt continued, almost in a ruthless manner, face scrunched in a muted fury, “and you chose Keith, Lance, and Katie, though I would have appreciated you leaving my sister out of it.” But if all this was true, then it made sense – Katie reminded Shiro so much of Matt. 

“I assume Lance chose Hunk, and there you – ”

“You’re wrong,” Shiro interrupted. “Haggar told the commanders that the Red Lion woke when Keith was born. I didn’t know Keith then. So how could I have possibly chosen Keith already? The Black Lion hadn’t even chosen me yet.”

“Which comes first – the lions or the paladins?” Matt twitched a shoulder. “Maybe the Black Lion chose you before you knew it. Maybe the Red Lion chose Keith knowing you’d choose Keith…or maybe the Red Lion chose Keith, making _you_ choose Keith? I don’t know, but the Druids weave the threads of the universe. So I can tell you for a fact, this is legit.”

“Don’t tell Lance,” Shiro teased, though his voice was empty and tight. “He’ll want future lotto numbers.”

Matt’s eyes softened, and he clasped Shiro on the shoulder. “Fate, destiny – whatever you want to call it. It comes down to the same thing, Shiro. You are the responsible for choosing the Paladins of New.” Before Shiro could even attempt to process that, a sinister little smirk twisted on the edge of Matt’s lips. “But seriously, you couldn’t have left my kid sister out of it?”

Shiro would have given anything to leave his own kid brother out of it, though Red growled again. She wanted her paladin, loved him, and no one but Keith would do. 

Sighing, Shiro hung his head and reached back subconsciously for Black before he turned his concerned gaze toward Matt. The earnest question hung in the air between them. 

What if he isn’t good enough?

“Then we’re all doomed,” Matt laughed, but Shiro couldn’t help but feel a tiny shiver of panic at that particular thought. Black protested his concerns, this time running his cool snout along Shiro’s collar before resting his chin on his paladin’s shoulder. 

_Mine._

_Yes,_ Shiro replied before fixing Matt with a troubled frown. “You can’t avoid her forever. You need to speak with Katie.” 

Matt’s dark robes shifted, sweeping across the ground to create a stark contrast. “I-I can’t, Shiro. You don’t know what I-I’ve been through.” His voice trembled, and when he spoke again, it was barely a whisper. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

Shiro snorted and lifted his Galra arm, fighting back a wince from his sore side. “I might have some idea.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Shiro, this isn’t funny.”

“No, it’s not.” 

“How – How can I face Katie – God, she’s the Green Paladin!” He slumped back against the cryo-pod, his boot touching Shiro’s leg just enough to be comforting. “With all the good she’s doing – how-how can I tell her about all the bad I’ve done in the name of the Galra?”

“By remembering we survived,” Shiro said, equally as low. “We did what we had to do to get back to our families. That’s all that matters now, Matt.”

“And the rest? How can you just forget – ”

Shiro forced his voice to remain calm and steady. “We work for forgiveness and a redemption we may never receive or even be worthy of, but…we have to try. That’s all we can do.”

Matt narrowed in his eyes in vindictive glare, but when he spoke, his tone returned to its usual jovial state. “Is it ever difficult to be that annoyingly virtuous?”

“You remember I traded places with you in the arena, right?” There was no heat to his voice, only genuine mirth. 

“You’re going to hold that over my head for the rest of my life, aren’t you?”

“At least until the next time Coran orders me to clean out the cryo-pods.”

The doors opened to the chambers with a loud swoosh, and Pidge entered, dressed in sweatpants and hoodie with wet hair and a plate full of food –

“Hey, Shiro. Thought you might still be up and want something to – ”

– which immediately clattered against the floor when her mouth went slack and her eyes shimmered with fresh tears. 

“…M-Matt?”

Matt tensed against Shiro and failed to breathe or do anything at all until Shiro kicked him in the boot. Then Matt emerged from his fog, and he glanced away, gathering enough courage to face his sister. His eyes, too, shimmered in the low overhead light. 

“Hey, Katie. Why did you cut off your hair? When I did that to you in middle school, you almost disemboweled – oof!”

Matt found himself with an armful of Katie, the young paladin pressing her face against Matt’s chest and clinging on for life and limb. Shiro wanted to slip away to the other side of the room to give the Holts as much privacy as possible – and to escape the sudden throbbing in his side – but Katie practically launched herself across his lap in order to assault her brother. Shiro definitely didn’t want to break up the heartwarming moment, even if he wasn’t entirely sure Katie remembered he was still there. 

“Ow! Katie! What the hell?”

Katie pulled away her fist, only to let it fly again, digging into Matt’s side. “You didn’t let me know you were here?” Another punch, another yelp. “What. Is. Wrong. With. You?” 

So many things, Shiro couldn’t even begin to list them, but Katie calmed again, scrubbing the tear tracks from her face. “You’re here. You’re actually here.”

Matt smiled that annoying little smile that he reserved only for his kid sister. “So…does this mean I’m off the hook for slicing off your hair? And what’s the glasses? When did you start needing them – ”

“When did you stop needing yours?”

Matt’s reluctance was palpable, but once Katie punched him in the shoulder, he caved and recounted some of the events of the last year and a half. Matt spoke of their capture, the arena, his unfortunate time with the Duirds, both as a prisoner and as one of them. He left out some of the more gruesome details, Shiro suspected, but Katie understood, squeezing between Matt and Shiro to fold her fingers with her brother’s and clutch. 

Matt didn’t mention Sam, though Katie asked eventually. 

“He’s alive,” Matt said with a sad smile that told more than his words, “and one day, we’ll find him.”

They let it go at that – at least for today. One day, Matt would tell Katie everything, but today was a day of reclamation, of celebration, and he wouldn’t taint it with the horrible truth of their father’s insanity. 

“Come on,” Katie finally declared, getting to her feet and tugging her brother along with her. “Let’s go see Lance. I bet he has some clothes that are about your size, or maybe I’ll hack Keith’s lock and see what he has.”

Matt waved as they exited, still apprehensive but much more comfortable now that Katie accepted him, Druid and all. He doubted Matt would ever make it to a guest room and would probably stay with Pidge over the next few weeks, but he could relate. 

Apparently, Lance gave his clothes to the cause since he entered next, and Shiro guessed the team decided to take turns on “Shiro Duty.” But Lance didn’t come alone as Coran and Allura, both in casual wear, followed him onto the medical deck. 

Coran must have not have approved of the break in Lance’s downtime because the Blue Paladin settled next to Shiro and declared, “I’m staying.”

Coran clicked his tongue. “Now, from what we heard, the aquatic adventure you endured was one of the most – ”

“We all had hard times.” Lance hit Shiro’s shoulder with his own. “And it’s scary, thinking you’re watching the most important person in your life slip away. But he’s safe now, y’know? And we’re all here to keep him that way.”

Great. Now he was being lectured by a seventeen-year-old cadet, and what made it worse was that Lance was right, even if Shiro had a hard time admitting it. He couldn’t relax if he thought he had to protect Keith, but he wasn’t alone anymore. At the cryo-pod’s base, Red raised her head, watching Shiro through narrowed, threatening eyes. 

He needed to show her that he would always protect Keith, and if that meant waiting to heal until after his brother exited the cryo-pod, then so be it. 

“Guys, I’m sorry, but I need to be here to – ”

Tiny, kitten-like licks lapped up his Galra fingers, and Shiro jerked his hand away as if burnt. Red ducked her head, eyes still dark and scarred, but her face no longer held that condemning venom. Instead, her face smoothed, and she persisted until she positioned her soft head under his hand. She moved to where she wanted Shiro to scratch – just behind her ears – and then purred with palpable delight. It surprised a grin from Shiro – Red finally forgave him for everything?

A distinct image flashed before his eyes – the Black Lion soaring through the sky and picking her up in his jaws. 

He and Black saved her and Keith. 

And he’d always do it, he promised her with a bow of his head in reverence. She was of his pride. 

Instead, though, she insisted, _Mine,_ and then Black joined them, brushing his snout against Red’s head and Shiro’s hand. 

“See?” Lance reached, too, running a hand along Red’s back. The motion soothed the wild beast, who at first bristled but then relaxed under Lance’s ministrations. “Even Red knows you need to get some R&R. Will you listen to her at least?”

Shiro gasped, “You can see the lions?”

“Of course,” Lance said with a raspberry. “Dude, when we first got in Blue, I saw her run and jump on you. And then, y’know, it’s kinda hard to miss her when she flops on top of me at night. She’s not exactly the size of the kittens back home.”

From behind Lance, Blue pounced, playing tugging on her paladin’s hood. He choked and struggled as she reigned him in, but before she effectively pinned him, he shouted, “Uncle! Uncle!” And she flopped upon his stomach, not allowing him up.

Allura looked utterly flabbergasted, but Coran simply murmured, “Amazing…”

“I didn’t think it was possible,” Allura muttered. “To be in sync with your lions so soon – the Paladins of Old barely achieved it, but they flew the lions for years. Yet somehow you – you five did it almost immediately.”

“What can I say?” Lance interjected, voice strained as he tried and failed to unhitch Blue. “I’m irresistible.”

Shiro thought for a moment Allura could not see them, but perhaps by Lance admitting to their ability, she was welcomed into their circle of trust? In any case, she brushed Black’s mane and murmured to the leader, “Will you help me? Shiro needs to rest and should spend some time in a cryo-pod.”

“Approximately eight hours and thirty-two ticks,” Coran supplied a little too cheerfully. 

Great. Now the Alteans was conspiring with his lion? 

“If nothing else, you need to shower and chillax,” Lance interjected. “You certainly don’t want neverous-nelly Keith here emerging and not being able to recover completely because he’s worried about you.”

That was low, hitting him with the kid brother as leverage, but his hesitation must have shown on his face because Lance and then Blue smacked his shoulder again in rapid fire. “I’ll stay. I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep, but Blue and I will stay here the entire time and watch over you and Keith.”

“As will I,” Coran reassured, clasping Shiro on the opposite shoulder. “We’ll have you back in shape in no time!”

It was hard, after so many years of it just being the two of them, to let go and allow others to protect his little brother when he couldn’t. But his side ached something fierce, and though he’d changed his shirt, thanks to Hunk, every swipe of the loose fabric sent a sharp twinge through his body. Plus, he wasn’t quite sure if every organ was where it needed to be. 

But Lance, Allura, and Coran weren’t acquaintances or friends. They were family – as were Blue and Red, who already began to get situated at the base of Keith’s cryo-pod with Blue’s head on Red’s back, and Lance going to settle in between them. Shiro furled an eyebrow – where was Black – but then a head nudged his shoulder again and again until he was forced to stand. 

“All right, all right,” Shiro laughed, putting his hands up in a surrender formation. It didn’t deter Black, who only continued his gentle pushes, his head fitting between Shiro’s shoulder blades him to propel forward. “I’m going. I’m going.”

Lance cheered, and Allura sighed. Coran went to get Shiro a fresh jumpsuit, and after a quick shower in the adjacent bathroom, he entered the cyro-pod for a well-deserved rest. The final image he saw was Black, sitting just before his cryo-pod, promising to watch over their pride. 

So Shiro sighed and closed his eyes. 

Coran had promised he’d be released a good two hours before Keith, yet when he emerged from the healing sleep, a human-shaped Keith ambushed him, fully awake and wearing his usual casual gear, minus his jacket.

"I'm half-Altean! When the hell did that happen?"

Shiro cringed and wondered if he could escape back into a relaxing, cyro-genetic slumber. 

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for adding the extra chapter. I keep forgetting the Interlude in my notes, so the story is still the same length. I just can't count.
> 
> Also, I wrote in this story that Shiro's arm is the way the Galra keep finding the Castle of Lions, but I actually think it's this - [Re: Zarkon Keeps Finding Us](http://ptw30.tumblr.com/post/155857674189/re-zarkon-keeps-finding-us). Warning - possible spoiler.


	20. Nado Saranghae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Jen for helping me clean up my Korean. 
> 
> WARNING: Angst and tooth-rotting fluff. Seriously. It's sappy, guys.

"I'm half-Altean! When the hell did that happen?"

Shiro was way too tired for this but managed nonetheless, "I'm guessing eighteen or so years ago."

Keith was livid, purple eyes glowing, teeth bared like an angry Galra commander. "Shiro, I'm serious! You kept this from me. What the hell? Isn’t that against our ground rules?"

Shiro sighed and made a mental note to return the favor the next time Allura wanted to join the paladins on a mission. He'd side with Coran and watch her get flustered from all the resistance. After all, he should have been the one to explain the situation to Keith, not her. At least…not yet. 

But at the moment, Shiro accepted Keith’s demanding gaze. His little brother’s teeth clicked together, and his upper lip trembled as if to unleash a terrifying growl. His shoulders arched, muscles tight and strained, his upper body leaning forward to pounce. 

Right. Keith might be half-Altean, but he was still half-Galra. And just as prickly as a full one. 

Shiro lifted his arms in a welcoming gesture, much to Keith’s dismay. The teen snarled, low and guttural, and then he downright hissed when Shiro furled an accusatory eyebrow. “Come on, kiddo. You and I both know you get your tail all out of whack when your scent isn’t all over the pride, and I fought Haggar, and then we crashed. And I’m sure being in a cyro-pod probably dispersed what was left of your scent, so – ”

Keith narrowed his eyes, then glanced away, chin lifted, and Shiro thought that was a cat’s equivalent of ignoring someone. But then Keith’s head ducked, the human equivalent of his ears drooping, and he let out a growling sigh before he flopped against Shiro’s chest. His arms wrapped about his older brother’s torso in a tight, secure hold, and they stayed like that for a long time. 

It wasn’t just the scent-marking. It wasn’t just Keith’s biological make-up. For more than two years, there had been almost constant fear lingering in their minds. First, the equal anticipation and dread of the Kerberos mission, then the mission itself, Shiro’s imprisonment, and one adventure after another with the Voltron Paladins and Alteans – there had never been time to sit and process everything that happened. 

Keith adapted surprisingly well, Shiro thought, to the entire situation. He’d gone from hiding from the Galra to fighting them, from having one older brother in his family to a whole team he revered as such, and even though Shiro couldn’t quite smell Keith’s unique scent, he found amusement watching Keith work his way through the Paladins – first Lance, then Pidge, Hunk, and finally Allura and Coran. He mostly kept to himself, but at times, he allowed Hunk’s hugs and Lance’s shoulder wraps. He endured Pidge’s head on his shoulder and Allura’s hair tussles. And when the paladins touched Keith, he briefly held onto them, smoothing his hands and arms about them, marking them as a part of his family. 

Shiro took some pride in that. His brother managed to branch out, trust, and welcome others into his life, and Shiro wasn’t sure that without their time at the garrison, any of this could have been possible. 

Despite their larger family, Shiro relished his close bond with his brother, going insofar as to lift Keith and press his forehead against his little brother’s shoulders. He should have offered some soothing noises and quiet comforts, but instead, he just held onto Keith, hoping his warm presence would be enough. In return, he listened to his brother’s steady heartbeat and cherished the simple truth of Keith’s existence. 

Keith surrendered to Shiro’s touch, enjoying the reassurance as much as Shiro – here, now, this was what Voltron fought for – and it was all too soon when Keith finally squirmed in Shiro’s hold, ready to yell some more. 

But he seemed more relaxed, more put together, as he dragged his fingers through his hair and shifted his weight. His red eyes and rosy nose revealed how close he’d been to crying.

“Better?” Shiro asked, though Keith’s embarrassed blush and averted eyes spoke for his voice. 

Shiro chuckled and dropped to the stairs in front of the cyro-pods, patting the space next to him. Keith let out a frustrated growl, sounding just like his hot-tempered lion, and flopped down next to Shiro with a huff. 

“How could not tell me about this?” Keith began again, violet eyes trembling as he sought Shiro’s for answers. “You let me think I’m Galra but didn’t think I needed to know that I’m Altean, too?”

Shiro responded with a quick jerk of his shoulder. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Keith glared, jaw agape incredulously.

“It didn’t sound like you needed to know then,” Shiro replied. “You weren’t injured. We’d barely gotten to know the others when Allura approached me, and I – I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

That sent a spark of outrage through Keith. “That wasn’t your decision to make.”

Yes, he’d known that. 

“You aren’t allowed to do that,” Keith pointed out, resting his bent elbows upon his knees. “We have ground rules against things like this.”

Kid knew how to hit him where it hurt. 

“You’re not allowed to keep things from me, Shiro,” Keith muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “You promised.”

Shiro sighed loudly and rubbed his hands over his face. Family wasn’t just family when it was convenient, and he was grateful. “I was trying to protect you.”

“Is that what you were doing back on the desert planet?” Keith sent a particularly nasty glare at Shiro’s Galra arm. “ _Protect_ me?”

Shiro’s hands gripped into painfully tight fists, and he immediately averted his eyes, no longer able to hold Keith’s gaze. Shame instantly seized his being, and he thought he may never be able to speak of it – when Keith forced him to. 

“Never give up on me again, Shiro,” Keith seethed through clenched teeth. “I’m not that weak.”

“I wasn’t giving up on you,” Shiro assured, daring to rest a hand upon Keith’s elbow. “Keith…now that I remember everything…I’m not sure if I faced that situation again…I don’t know what I’d do. I think – I think I would – I – I would end it…before they could do anything else to me.”

In Shiro’s peripheral vision, he saw Keith freeze, eyes blown wide and frightened. 

“I’m not sure if I ever escaped,” Shiro continued in a broken whisper, clasping his hands together in his lap. “I never want you to feel like that. Sendak – he told me what happened to his younger brother, how he… _saved_ the cub from the Galra arena. I thought – I thought he was mad, but then, after everything that happened – ” Shiro’s hands shook; his voice was gutted. His vision blurred with fresh tears. “Sendak called me a monster, said the Galra Empire defeated me, broke me, and reforged me. And he was right. And I – I couldn’t stand the thought of them doing that to you.” 

Shiro would eventually tell his brother about the close relationship between the Black and Red Paladins, and how Zarkon wanted to claim Keith as his own. But not now. Not today. 

“I know that’s a terrible excuse for what I did to you, and I understand if you never trust me again.” A soul-wrenching agony seized his heart, but he persisted, had to say this before he lost his nerve. He had to do what was right for Keith, even if it physically hurt his soul. “If we can’t form Voltron, I’m sure the Princess would be willing to take over the duties of the Black – ”

In retrospect, Shiro should have been anticipating the surprise punch that slammed into his cheek. Even worse, he’d taught Keith how to throw that punch, and the instant stinging in his cheek and split lip were painful reminders. 

“Weren’t you the one who said I was stuck with you and that wasn’t going to change?” Keith demanded, and belatedly, Shiro saw the glistening on his brother’s cheeks. 

“But-But Keith, listen to me – ”

“I’m from the Galra Empire! You don’t think I know the hell it is?” Keith practically shrieked. “You’re nothing like Sendak or any of those monsters, Shiro. You stopped.”

“But I almost didn’t, Keith. And I could have – ” He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t allow himself to even follow the horrific thought of what he almost did. His stomach roiled, and his palms sweated as he remembered the heat of his arm and the close proximity of Keith’s vulnerable neck. 

Quick and painless, he had told himself, and yet it was anything but. 

Had he become like the monsters of the Galra Empire? Had they corrupted him, changed him, made him into the very thing he hated? Was he nothing more than a broken soldier pretending he could be a paladin, a hero? How could he have ever thought to – to Keith? 

And now his little brother was trying to absolve him, but he didn’t deserve it. Keith needed to see how wrong Shiro was and get as far away from him as he could – not slip his hand into Shiro’s Galra one and offer a tender squeeze. But that was exactly what he did. 

When he spoke, it was nothing less than the solemn vow. “Sendak was wrong. You’re my brother, and they can’t have you. I won’t let them.”

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Keith said those words, but in reality, it had only been a few days. A warm swell of affection spread through Shiro, and he avoided his little brother’s searching eyes, only for Keith to clutch his hand tighter. 

“You came back,” Keith murmured, those otherworldly eyes shimmering with truth and warmth. “Even after all they put you through, they couldn’t break you. You came back – _you,_ not Champion.” 

Shiro wished he didn’t have to admit this – admitting it made it real – but he persisted through his quivering lips. “They did break me, Keith. Haggar – she can control me. She – She did something to me, tortured me until I gave in, and then once I did – she made me into Zarkon’s champion. I – I slaughtered innocent people in the area.” How was he still talking? Why was he still talking? “I finally broke her control because of Sendak and Blue, but I still – ”

“ – escaped and came home.” Keith settled on the floor across from him, never letting go of Shiro’s hand. “You survived. That’s what matters, right? You told Matt that. Why don’t you believe it about yourself?”

“Because Matt didn’t almost kill Katie.”

“Yeah, but Matt did other things, didn’t he?” Keith glared bitterly at Shiro’s arm, almost as if he knew its origin. “And – And you were willing to sacrifice your soul for me.”

Because the moment Keith died, Shiro would, too.

“I would do anything for you, kiddo,” Shiro assured. He’d even take on the ruler of the known universe. 

That was why he wasn’t part of the Galra Empire, as Sendak had proclaimed. Despite numerous chances, they couldn’t steal his soul because it was kept safe and alive in the hands of an eighteen-year-old punk pilot who refused to let it go. 

“I know,” Keith whispered, fingers trembling next to Shiro’s Galra ones. “And I’m sorry.”

This was not on Shiro’s agenda today. “Keith, what could you possible – ”

“If I would have listened to you and helped the others find Allura, or if I’d listened to Coran and not fought Zarkon, then maybe we wouldn’t have been on that desert planet. Maybe we wouldn’t have been in that position where you had to – ”

“No, _no!_ ” That was unacceptable. “Keith, if you hadn’t fought Zarkon, then the Black Lion could be in his control now. We might have lost it.” His insecurities came back full-force, and he tried his best to stop his hand from jostling Keith’s. “I don’t know why the Black Lion chose me. Why it thought I could help free the universe. I’m not – I’m not worthy of it…” _…or you._

Keith’s lips twisted into a ghost of a smirk. “Maybe because when you faced certain death, when there was no way we could win, you still refused to give up. Maybe it knows what you refuse to acknowledge.”

“And what’s that?”

“That you are the Champion, Shiro, just not Zarkon’s.” 

Shiro blinked at him, unsure how to respond, if Keith even required one. 

“You took me in,” Keith continued ruthlessly. “You thought I was an orphan, and then you found out I was an alien, and it didn’t matter to you. You fought against incredible odds to escape the Galra, and then when you were only home for a day, you left again to save Earth. You’re willing to do anything to save the ones you love, and – and you never once hated me for being Galra.”

“Because it doesn’t matter to me, Keith,” Shiro assured, placing a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder and drawing him close to press a kiss to Keith’s forehead. “You’re my brother, furry or not.”

He threw an arm about Keith’s shoulders, like they used to sit on the cabin’s roof. “The year I was missing…I want to tell you about it. Not all of it,” he added quickly, watching Keith frown. “I think there are things I did and things that were done to me that I may never be able to speak about. But…I wouldn’t have survived without you. Y-You saved me when I held prisoner by the Galra.”

“Saved you…from the Galra?” Keith repeated, uncertain. “You mean from the garrison. Once you crash-landed on Earth.”

“No.” Shiro shook his head and tried to stop his hand from trembling. He failed. “They – Haggar and Zarkon wanted to know the identities of the paladins. If it had been just Lance and Hunk and Katie…I think…I couldn’t have held out. I think I would have told them who they were, if I knew. But-But it was you. Red showed me you were her paladin, and there was no way I was going to let the Galra find you.”

Keith was stricken. “So it’s my fault you were tortured?”

“No.” Shiro was adamant and steadfast. “If I would have told them about you, they would have killed me. It was because of you that I was able to hold on and ultimately escape. You saved me, Keith. …thank you.”

Keith’s shoulders hitched; his face set in an unrelenting glare of accusation. “You can never give up, Shiro. What would have happened if you did? Black might have discovered by Zarkon, and then what? We are the universe’s only hope, and you’re our leader. You need to always fight and hold on and not give in because – because – ” His shout ended abruptly, and Shiro didn’t need to look over to see the despondent tears. 

_– I can’t lose you again._

Shiro kept the dark truth to himself – that the Red Paladin’s death led to Zarkon conquering the universe – because it echoed true in his soul. 

The Black Paladin couldn’t lose the Red Paladin again. 

Shiro couldn’t lose Keith. Ever. 

“I know this doesn’t change what I’ve done,” Shiro murmured, glancing down at his and Keith’s joined hands, “but I’m sorry…for everything. And I will make it up to you. Somehow.” 

But Keith always understood the concept of family better than Shiro. 

Love and forgiveness. 

“You can right now,” Keith demanded with all the curtness of a garrison commander. “You will agree to a new ground rule. No dying. Period. No mercy kills or suicide missions. No sacrifices. Just – we survive. All of us. Together.”

It wasn’t that simple, and Shiro said so with a choked laugh. 

“Yes, it is,” Keith insisted, those violet eyes refused to give in on this. “Promise me, Shiro. No dying. Leader or not. We don’t need to sacrifice everything to save the universe. We can’t. This war can’t take anything else from you.”

“Or you,” Shiro interjected.

“Or Katie and Matt and Lance and Hunk, Allura, and Coran.” Keith’s smile was wet but precious. “And it won’t. We’re always stronger together.”

Perhaps even harder than dying was living, and Shiro wasn’t sure how much he’d been able to do so since he was captured by the Galra close to two years ago. But now – holding Keith, finding Matt, loving Allura, and discovering their pride – he’d like to try again. Perhaps he’d been looking at his arm and scars wrong. Instead of seeing them as reminders of his time as a member of the Galra Empire, perhaps he needed to see them as reminders that he escaped, that was no longer his prisoner, and he’d made it home.

Perhaps he wasn’t on Earth, but Earth wasn’t his home, not anymore. His home was where his pride was, where Keith was, and that – Shiro would celebrate, fight for, and refuse to die for. 

Shiro felt stronger – and though the lions had been suspiciously absent during his and Keith’s conversation, like they knew he and his brother needed to do this alone, they returned, feeding their raw power into his soul. And with that new-found strength, Shiro was able to nod. 

Keith smiled and all but collapsed into Shiro’s cradling hold. They stayed like that, Shiro wasn’t sure how long, Keith practically a sleeping kitten ensconced in his brother’s warmth, and Shiro just reveling in his little brother’s complacent demeanor. 

“So why didn’t you tell me about my Altean heritage?”

Shiro’s jaw tightened. Great. He’d completely forgotten about that – but apparently, Keith hadn’t. 

He quickly averted his eyes, reaching for answers that would always be inadequate. But they were the truth. “I was scared. I didn’t know if it would change…us. You’ve always sought a family, and it frightened me to think…that maybe…I was a substitute.”

“Shiro – what – what the hell?” Keith sat up in Shiro’s hold, hands balled into tight, frustrated fists on his brother’s shoulders. “How could you ever think –”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if that were the case, but I selfishly wanted to keep you as my brother.” He sighed. “You remember the first driving lesson I gave you? On the hoverbike?”

“You mean that first Christmas?” Keith rolled his eyes. “I hit the accelerator when you weren’t holding on right, and you slammed your head against the ground. And then you had a concussion, and – ”

“And you stayed up with me all night, making sure I didn’t fall asleep.” Shiro hit him the shoulder again and flashed his startled little brother a quick but sure smile. “I don’t think you ever understood how much that meant to me. It – You made me understand what family is, Keith. You can’t blame me for trying to hold onto it anyway I can.”

A furious pink tinge spread through Keith’s cheeks, and Shiro gave into the impulse to ruffle Keith’s locks. “I really wasn’t trying to stop you from knowing – just…delaying it. But I’m glad for you – that you have blood relatives, Keith, and that your family –”

“ – is still you. Just because I share blood with other people doesn’t change _this._ ” He motioned to the space between them. 

Shiro’s cheeks bloomed with heat, and his heart rutted in his chest. He indulged in Keith’s exasperated glower before allowing himself a genuine smile, “Have you spoken to Matt or Allura yet about your dominant form? I’m assuming you’re mostly Altean since that was the form that remained in the cryo-pod.”

“I don’t know.” Keith shrugged awkwardly, sounding brighter and more relaxed than before. “Allura just said we have a lot to talk about.”

“Well, whatever form you feel most comfortable in, I think you should use.”

“I think I’d like to keep what I am, y’know? Or have been for a while.” When Shiro cocked his head in a silent question, Keith ducked his chin and muttered with flushed cheeks, “Human, if that’s all right with you.”

Shiro blinked, trying to make sense of what seemed like a confession. “It’s okay to choose either Altean or Galra, Keith. It’s who you are, and everyone on the ship will celebrate whoever or whatever you decide to be.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Keith sighed and rubbed his hands down his face, and déjà vu struck Shiro hard and fast. “I feel most comfortable as a human, and – and – that’s what you are. I’d like keep our forms the same…if you’re okay with that.”

As if Keith needed his permission, and Shiro drew him close again to plant a tender kiss upon Keith’s forehead. “Okay? Kiddo, I’m touched and honored and the human race just doesn’t deserve you.” He added soft, his lips brushing against Keith’s soft strands. “I don’t deserve you.”

Keith just clenched his fists in Shiro’s shirt, cheeks tinged pink and eyes glassy – and then Shiro remembered where he’d seen Keith so uncomfortable before. “So kiddo, you never did say who your crush was.”

“Shiro!” Keith tried unsuccessfully to pull away. 

“Oh, come on. We’re millions of light years away from Earth. It’s not like I’m going to rush back home and embarrass you in front of him.” He would lament that, though. It was one of the glorious perks of being an older brother. 

Keith relaxed against Shiro, rationality a welcome comfort. “He was just a cargo pilot in my class.”

“Hm. Anyone I know?”

“You probably already forgot about him. He wasn’t in any of your classes.”

Hm. Bummer. 

Keith’s head suddenly popped up, and he spun toward the entrance. Shiro reluctantly released him, allowing Keith to retreat to the first cryo-pod where a cup and spoon resided. 

“I made this myself – ” Keith began, but when Shiro’s nose scrunched at that statement, he added, “though Hunk might have supervised.”

Shiro popped off the top, only to gasp at the orange gooeyness he saw inside. One quick glance at Keith confirmed his thoughts – Keith actually appeared giddy – and then he dove in, devouring taste after taste. 

“You made macaroni and cheese? What – Who - _How!_ Did Hunk – ?”

“Hey! We had some of the ingredients here, and I learned from the master. Milk before cheese powder, right?”

Shiro froze, eyes unseeing as Keith waved his hand in front of Shiro’s face. “Shiro? What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

Had Matt actually been able to transport him back in time to see Keith that first Christmas? He knew the Galra were powerful, but this? It was unfathomable and the repercussions of such power – and so he didn’t think about it, at least not today. Instead, he pushed the frightening thought away and savored the taste of his favorite meal and company. 

“So Alllura told you you’re from the royal bloodline of Altea, right?” Shiro mumbled in between bites. Thankfully, Keith had brought two cups of this stuff. “That’s the reason you can shapeshift.” 

“It was Lance, but Allura filled in the blanks afterwards.”

“Now that the others know – it’ll come in helpful on missions.”

“Lance said it’ll come in helpful other ways.” 

“Of course he did.” Shiro snorted. “Tell Lance to get his mind out of the gutter.” Placing his empty cups on the stair next to him, he clenched his Garla wrist and forced himself to remain calm as he continued, “We should talk to Allura and Coran. It’ll be good to finally get some answers for you about your genetics. And hey, you never know. Maybe one day we’ll get back to Earth, and you can tell that cargo pilot how you crushed on him.”

“Shiro! Geez!”

His laughter echoed this time, hearty and real as Keith bristled, but he quickly silenced at his brother’s eyebrow twitch. “Y’know, I can’t believe you got all jealous about me and Allura, when you and she make eyes at each other all the time.”

Shiro pretended not to feel the heat rise in his cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” Keith laughed this time, light and true, and Shiro savored the tinkling sound and the kind, carefree look on his brother’s face. 

He almost wished that moment would never end – until a thought prickled on the edge of his mind. 

“Hey. Wasn’t Lance a cargo pilot in your class?”

Keith choked on his own spit. 

Shiro smiled, easy and teasing. “I’ll keep your secret if you let me scratch behind your ears.”

“No!”

“Come on. It can even be your Altean ones.”

Keith groaned and dropped his head into his hands, and Shiro compromised, ruffling Keith’s hair. 

“ _Saranghae,_ ” he said. _I love you._

“ _Nado saranghae,_ ” Keith murmured back. _I love you, too._

*^*^*

There wasn't one long conversation recounting Shiro's missing year. After Coran came into the chamber to check Shiro’s vitals, the brothers retired to Shiro’s room. There, Shiro talked until he couldn't any longer, cross-legged on his bed with Keith sitting next to him, knees hitched up to his chest. Eventually Shiro passed out, Keith's fingers entwined with his as a constant anchor to the soothing present. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, Shiro spoke about his year here and there when a stimulus trigged a flashback, and since their stint on the desert planet was so stressful, he was sensitive for days on end. 

Keith always made Shiro proud, but during those first few days, especially, he listened without judgement and offered tiny but profound gestures of comfort, like placing a hand upon Shiro’s forearm to ground him or hitting him in the shoulder to jar him from his horrific memories. 

Keith was perhaps the epitome of clingy, keeping Shiro in sight, lying next to him at night, a constant presence at his elbow just in case. Shiro didn’t blame him, actually appreciated the closeness, and sometimes just drew Keith against him for comfort. 

Matt folded into castle life effortlessly, sitting next to Pidge at breakfast and blathering with his sister like usual, and Katie – she stopped wearing her glasses and pulled her hair back into a short but noticeable ponytail. Instead of trying to hide who she was and maybe even take Matt’s place, she seemed to celebrate herself, and that included just little cosmetic changes that made her – and Matt – smile. 

Matt wasn’t the same person he was as before the Kerberos mission, and neither was Shiro. But that was okay. It would take time – as Matt flattened Katie’s hair and asked for a few moments alone – to discover who this new Matt was and how he was different from the one on Earth, but they’d eventually find some semblance of normalcy. 

Even if they sometimes walked in on Matt warming a cup of “Coran’s brew” with glowing purple hands rather than one of the appliances, or he disappeared for hours to the training deck, sitting crossed-legged with his eyes closed, black streams of power slithering off him – that was just how life in the Castle of Lions was. 

Then Matt approached them one day during a training session, a challenging little smirk upon his features. “Each of you is a guardian of an element. I think it’s time you learned how to do your jobs, don’t you?”

The paces he put them through were grueling, harder than even Shiro’s lessons with Sendak, but having control of the powers bestowed upon them by the lions would give them a necessary edge in the war against Zarkon and the Galra. 

But still – even after weeks of being back on the ship – something nagged at Shiro’s gut, gnawing and insistent, until he went to see Allura. 

She listened with that stoic, reserved manner she used during diplomatic functions, then pursed her lips. “And you are certain about this?”

“Well, no,” he admitted with a sheepish smile, raising his Galra arm, “since we haven’t been attacked since our battle in Zarkon’s command system, but we shouldn’t wait to find out if Matt’s right.”

“And you feel this is the best course of action?” she only stated fact, judgement absent from her voice, though Shiro suspected she felt disbelief and even uncertainty on some level. 

He nodded nonetheless. “He would be an unparalleled asset in our fight against Zarkon and knows intimate knowledge of the Black Bayard’s whereabouts.”

"Or he might try to kill you in your sleep.”

He appreciated her adding “try.” “He wouldn’t.”

“You do not know that. And what about Pidge? She could be in considerable danger with him on board.”

“You trust me, don’t you, Allura?”

She did, or she wouldn’t have entertained the conversation. “How can you be so certain, Shiro?”

“Because once you become a member of the Galra, you become something else.”

She waited, knowing he would continue. 

“Sendak is no longer a member of the Galra Empire.”

_To Be Concluded..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In reality, Keith would have decked Shiro, then hugged him, and that would have been the end of it. But...y'know, I like words.


	21. Dawn

A layer of ice-covered snow glistened upon the surface of the planet, and it glowed a slick silver in the nearby moon’s light. Shiro tried not to be too distracted by its awesome beauty – or by the planet’s subzero temperatures – as he shuffled through the mountainous terrain of the year-round winter planet. Looking back, he probably should have seen what planet the Castle of Lions was hovering over when he spaced Sendak, but he had been too emotional at the time, too fearful of the unknown past coming to haunt his present. 

While Shiro no longer feared, Sendak still presented a real danger to the paladins, especially Pidge. If Sendak wished to take revenge for Haxus’s death, Shiro wanted to make sure it was against him and not his youngest teammate. 

He’d wanted to come alone, but Keith refused to let him. Though Shiro had recounted as much as he dared to Keith the last few weeks – including telling him about Thace – Shiro still wanted to protect his little brother from the harsh truth of his past. This was just something he needed to do, but he didn’t want Keith to be harmed because of it. 

But when Shiro explained why he wanted to seek out Sendak, Keith immediately readied his armor. Shiro’s heart warmed at his brother’s unwavering loyalty, but another part of him wondered if Keith just wanted to make sure Sendak didn’t scent-mark him again. (Not that Keith had smelled Sendak’s scent on Shiro the first time, thanks to Thace.)

The other paladins voiced their concerns, but Shiro ultimately refused to let them come. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, but this felt too personal. He both appreciated and lamented knowing what he’d done during his year with the Galra, and though he wanted to protect his teammates, a more selfish part of him didn’t want them to know, afraid they’d think of him differently if they did. 

But Keith didn’t, and while he wanted to spare his brother most of all, Shiro was relieved to not carry the burden of his past alone.

Which was why Keith huffed and drudged through the snow next to Shiro as they climbed the icy terrain in search of Sendak. They’d been walking for what seemed like hours since the Castle of Lions could only locate its sleep pod within a few hundred meters. The mountain was too rocky and jagged for the castle to land, but Pidge and the Green Lion dropped them off in the general area of the indicator. And so Shiro and Keith began their ascent. 

Shiro wondered briefly if the feline aliens like Sendak and Keith came from a planet with a similar cold climate like this one, especially since Shiro’s lips were chapped and trembling, legs and arms shivering and long numb, and all Keith seemed to do was shake his head every so often to clear the flurries from his visor. 

“This is one of the worst plans you’ve ever come up with,” Keith growled, sounding very much like the grumpy cat he was. 

“And yet, you’re still here,” Shiro retorted, much to Keith’s dismay. 

“Just because I don’t want you dead, doesn’t mean I still don’t think this is a terrible idea.”

“We really need to get you catnip.”

Keith snarled this time, much to Shiro’s delight. Then he sighed, straightening his back and scanning the mountainous terrain with a begrudging scowl. His visor brightened with different scans and reports, all coming up negative. 

Keith trudged up next to him, seemingly seeing the same results. “Maybe we should have brought Lance. Doesn’t he have a connection with snow or water…or something wet?”

As Keith continued to complain, Shiro watched as his hot breath formed clouds in the gray landscape and quirked an eyebrow at the billowing steam that floated up from his side, precisely from the snow and ice about Keith’s boots and legs. 

“You heated up your body temperature,” Shiro huffed, crossing his arms, “and instead of offering to share, you decided to let me freeze.”

“Hey, Guardian of the Sky, maybe you should have rejected the Black Lion’s offer to bond and instead waited for a useful element to master.”

“Without my air, you wouldn’t be able to create your fire.”

“Not all gases are flammable, y’know.”

Shiro scowled and pointed an accusing finger at his little brother. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Katie and Matt.”

Keith’s eyebrows raised. “Me? You were the one who invited Matt to the training deck.”

“I didn’t think you two would get into a four-hour argument about conspiracy theories and – ugh!”

A hard force slammed into his face, sending Shiro sprawling forward. He flipped on instinct, tumbling to a stop in the snow and facing the direction of the attack. Activating his hand in one motion, he halted his retaliation since Keith already stood in front of him, sword out and ready to parry. Then the Red Paladin rushed forward toward their enemy – Sendak. 

A makeshift white coat – made out of what appeared to be animal fur – hung off the former commander’s shoulders, and while his Galra armor remained intact, his chest plate bore cracks and no longer glowed a venomous red. Against the white snow, he stood out like a beckon with his fluffy, purple fur, and it definitely drew Keith, who swiped and combatted with fluid movements of his sword. Sendak absorbed the attacks with the forearm plate of his good arm while his Galra tech arm was missing, his massive fist still back on the Castle of Lions. It gave Keith the advantage he didn’t have during their first battle. 

But Shiro needed to stop the fight before escalated and waited until Sendak started his offensive assault – smacking Keith’s sword aside and kicking the Red Paladin in the stomach. Sendak then reached for the blaster buried under his white fur cloak, and as he leveled it, Shiro dove between his brother and Sendak, deflecting the blasts with his Galra arm. 

“Stop! We’re not here to – ”

Sendak lunged, and they resumed their deadly dance from their training days on Sendak’s battlecruiser. This fight worked Shiro even harder, forcing his muscles to strain in the feet-deep snow, but he managed to keep up with Sendak, treading blows and attacks. 

“I don’t want to fight – ugh!” he tried to say, but Sendak kept battering him, not letting him speak. Shiro’s eyes went wide as Keith moved behind Sendak, sword raising to pierce. 

“Keith! Don’t!”

Sendak kicked Shiro in the stomach before turning and burying his blaster in Keith’s gut. Shiro sucked in a quick breath as Keith froze, and from behind, Shiro couldn’t see Sendak’s face. But he could see that the Galra commander had yet to pull the trigger. 

“So, this is Thace’s cub,” he wondered, voice husky and breathless. “Hm. I should have destroyed you during our first battle.”

“Maybe if Pidge hadn’t cut your arm off.”

“Your friend was not the first.” As Shiro stood and the snow fell off of his shoulders in clumps, Sendak tightened his hold upon the blaster and eyed Keith’s blade, which still hovered just under his chin. “You were foolish to come, just the two of you. Even with one arm, you are no match for me.”

“We need to get the Black Bayard,” Shiro began without preamble. “You know Zarkon’s movements and the Galra Empire’s operations better than anyone. You can help us get it.”

As Shiro came to stand within touching distance of Sendak, the commander glanced at Shiro for a second before focusing on Keith again. “And what makes you think I would give you my assistance?”

Shiro placed a hand upon Sendak’s blaster and another upon Keith’s sword. When he spoke, it was not only a whisper but also a tender admission. “Because I’m coming for you – when no one else would.”

Sendak’s eyes widened only a fraction, but it allowed Shiro to see the former commander’s internal shock. 

Shiro stepped in front of a sputtering Keith, getting between the blaster and the sword. His voice lowered even further, grave and gutted, speaking from a place of vulnerability and trust. “After I fought you in the arena, I forgot what happened to me. Haggar’s influence upon me was too strong. I didn’t – I couldn’t make sense of everything, but…I-I remember now. You tried to save me, even after I betrayed you. You went back into the arena for me, and it was your officer who helped me escape – ”

“Haxus went alone to see you after you severed my arm.”

Haxus helped him escape – without Sendak’s orders? 

“What he did during my recovery time was his prerogative alone.”

Heat rose to burn through the cool sensation upon Shiro cheeks, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t process the intense feeling of remorse that swept through him, but maybe he’d talk to Keith about it later – or even Coran or Allura. Haxus, who used to threaten him and demanded Shiro’s own life as payment for injuring Sendak – he came to help Shiro escape with no other provocation than his own inclination?

The terrible memories hit him full-force – Haxus coming to see him during his torture and offering support and reassurance – and during their final conversation, Haxus had announced that Shiro would be back on the bridge of Sendak’s battlecruiser. 

When had Haxus accepted him as part of Sendak’s command? As an ally and perhaps…even a friend?

Shiro dismissed the thought for now. What was done, was done, and Shiro would mourn Haxus in his own time. 

Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand. “I’m sorry for a lot of things. That year – you helped me survive, and I never thanked you for that.”

Sendak straightened his back but lowered his weapon, though his massive size alone created an intimidating persona. Keith took offense, jerking his sword from Shiro’s grip and readying it for combat again. 

Shiro threw an arm to his side, a physical barrier keeping Keith at bay. “I owe you.”

“And yet you’ve come to make demands of me.”

“You never wanted to be part of the Galra Empire. You were impressed and forced into subjugation, same as I was. But after I spaced you from the Castle of Lions – ”

Sendak snorted and stomped away, his massive body moving surprisingly fast through the formidable snow drifts. “Your kind have a peculiar way of showing your loyalty.”

Shiro gave chase. “ – you didn’t go back to Zarkon, even after you told me it was futile to fight him. You said he had defeated me, and there was no escape. And yet you choose to stay here, on this deserted planet, alone. Why? You can’t tell me you don’t have any ways of contacting the Galra.”

Stopping briefly, Shiro made sure Keith followed, and he did so only after a pointed glare. Sendak took the lead, and as they came to a rather large snow dune, the former commander crouched low and searched with his good arm, eventually unearthing the carcass of a dead creature. A mix between a bear and a deer, complete with claws and antlers, the creature looked anything but delicious, though Sendak didn’t seem to mind and dragged it after him in the snow. 

After a few hundred yards, Sendak came to a jagged rock wall in a tiny crevasse of the mountains, and he disappeared between two snow-heaped boulders. Next to him, Shiro could not only see Keith’s exasperated glower – _we’re not really going to follow him, are we?_ – but also felt it against the exposed section of his face as Keith upped his body temperature again. It was truly a heated glare. 

While the small space between the rocks must be have been tight for the Sendak, both Shiro and Keith fit easily. Inside, Shiro found the temperature to be more tolerable, though not at all warm, with makeshift comforts – a bed made of pelt, an ice block hitched up on a rock to drip water into a small basin, and a brush mound for cooking. 

“I see you’ve gone up in the world,” Shiro commented, though Sendak barely spared him a glower. 

“You are wasting your time and energy. Whatever it is you seek, Shiro, you will not find it here.”

At the mention of Shiro’s name, Keith’s head shot up, and he turned his shocked gaze on his older brother, who promptly ignored him. 

“You have unparalleled knowledge and expertise when it comes to the Galra Empire. You can give us insight no one else can.”

“And for that alone you came,” Sendak mused, crouching down before the brush and snatched two rocks to clap together. 

So that was Sendak’s way of ignoring Shiro? Hm. Were all Galra alike? Keith tended to do the same thing, and Shiro knew just the tactic to get him to talk. 

He told the truth. “No. I came to get you. Your expertise in all things Galra is my justification to my team.” He inhaled sharply, and when he spoke again, his voice was tender and imploring. “You were right. We are connected, but not the way you thought. We’re not part of the Galra Empire, Sendak. We’ve victims of it, and I will stop what happened to your planet from happening to others.”

Sendak remained crouched before the brush, and though he couldn’t see Sendak’s face, he imagined the thoughtful look of bewilderment, like he couldn’t believe Shiro was real, that there was someone in the universe out there who wanted to save it and perhaps was even stubborn enough to do so. 

Sendak eventually started shuffling the brush into a pile to light. “I will not betray Lord Zarkon.”

“You’ll just abandon him.”

Sendak glared over his shoulder as a deep growl rumbled through his clenched teeth. “Zarkon needs no one by his side. The Witch Haggar and I helped to further his agenda, but that is all. If he did not have any use for me, he would have simply killed me.”

“But you feel something for him.”

“I owe him – not unlike how you owe me.” 

Shiro now spared a desperate glance at Keith, who looked up at him questioningly, before he pulled his eyes away. “I’m paying that back now. Join us, and together, we’ll bring down Zarkon.”

Sendak shook his head and scrapped the rocks together. “You make it sound easy, but you are ignorant to think – ”

“ – that you may be able to tip the scales in our favor?” Shiro scoffed, crossing his arms. “Or am I putting too much faith in you – ”

Sendak snarled as a reply and unfolded his legs to tower over Shiro – only to squawk and stumble backwards when fire suddenly roared along his brush. Keith smirked and stood, clapping his hands to rid them of soot. 

“That should take away some of your debt,” he professed. 

Sendak’s top lip trembled as he growled, teeth bared, and Shiro responded calmly but forcibly. “Others did nothing but watch as your planet was destroyed, but that doesn’t have to happen again. We can stop it.”

Sendak paused, eyes steady but uncertain, before he glanced away, swallowing hard. “I destroyed worlds,” he croaked. 

“And I killed innocent people in the arena, and Matt tortured them for the Druids. We’re not guiltless, and we’re just going to have to live with that.”

Keith’s warm fingers brushed against Shiro’s before they gripped, unwilling to let Shiro live through his guilt and recovery alone. Shiro squeezed back, grateful for his constant reassurance. Using the strength Keith lent him, Shiro raised his head and met Sendak’s scathing glare. 

“But we can do something about it. We can dedicate ourselves to stopping the evil that enslaved us and stopping others from enduring the tortures we did and dealt.”

The fire crackled and popped, punctuating the pregnant pause that followed. The orange and yellow flames lit the small enclosure and projected dancing shadows upon the rock wall. It made their figures seem taller, more imposing. Perhaps they were monsters after all, but the Galra Empire created them to fight for it. Now they would use that power to fight against it. 

Shiro refused to look away from Sendak’s unflinching stare, refused to let the usual stoic Sendak recoil. 

Sendak eventually muttered, “What makes you think I care?”

“Because if you didn’t, you would have killed me back in the Castle of Lions. You could have killed me in the arena, but at the last moment, you didn’t. Instead, you showed me mercy, and – ”

Sendak made a noise of derision before he glanced over at the burning brush. “I’m not sure that qualifies as mercy.”

“Perhaps not, but I made it back to Earth and my brother. Without you, that would not have been possible.”

Keith’s hand tightened in his palm, and then Keith drew closer, wrapping his free arm about Shiro’s as if to claim him once more. Shiro didn’t mind. After all, the cavern rank of Sendak’s unique scent, Shiro could smell now, much more earthly and rich than Keith’s lighter but intense aroma. And right now, Sendak and Keith engaged in a silent clash for territory – over Shiro. 

If it wasn’t so embarrassing, Shiro would have found it hysterical. 

Then, much to Shiro’s surprise, Keith relented, raising his chin as to bare his neck in defeat, though he remained protectively curled about Shiro’s body. 

No, Keith didn’t concede. He thanked Sendak for helping his brother escape and return to his side. 

Sendak shifted, dragging his remaining nails along the exterior of his armor, and Shiro could almost believe it was a nervous gesture. 

“I ordered the Green Paladin’s death,” Sendak added quickly, as if he feared he might have lose his nerve. 

“You and Katie will just have to come to some agreement,” Shiro offered, though his tone softened, “and perhaps we can have a proper burial for Haxus.”

Sendak heaved a terrible sigh and shook his head. “He died an honorable death, and he lived to serve me. I do not believe he died with regret.”

“So you’ll come,” Keith all but ordered, both arms now clinging to Shiro’s Galra one. “If you really regret what you’ve done in the name of the Galra, then the only thing you can do is fight with us against it.”

Sendak’s eyes shifted to Keith, narrowing as if tolerating the younger man’s presence. After a moment of scrutiny, his lips twitched with a sinister smirk. “You cling to Shiro because you believe I may scent-mark him – again.”

Keith flinched as if struck but quickly recovered to bare his teeth; it was comical in his human form. Sendak ignored the snarling threat to step forward, and Keith’s growl deepened. The former commander made sure to lift his hand to show he wasn’t attacking, then grabbed Shiro’s helmet, freeing his head. Shiro allowed it, though he eyed Sendak questioningly. 

“If you’re going to scent-mark someone as a member of your pride, then you might as well do it right.” Sendak motioned for Shiro to raise his chin, and Shiro listened – only to drop it a second later and glare. 

“No tongue this time.”

“Hm. Deprive the cub of the fun part.”

Shiro couldn’t say he wasn’t uncomfortable, but he endured it for Keith. The kid’s tension uncoiled with each passing moment after he shifted into Galra form and spread his scent upon Shiro as per Sendak’s instructions – down Shiro’s stomach and lower back, and then brushing his fur against Shiro’s vulnerable neck. When he was finished, he all but hung off his brother’s shoulders, boneless and lethargic and unbelievably content.

Shiro raised a hand toward Keith’s ears, only for Keith to slap it away. 

He swiveled to Sendak. “Hey, can I scratch behind your ears?”

Sendak blinked, unbothered. “I surmise you’d like to keep the flesh hand you have.”

“And now you’ve taken away my fun part.”

But he thought, maybe, this might just work. 

*^*^*

Eventually, Sendak answered Keith’s question. “I’ll help you to retrieve the Black Bayard. After that, you will return me to my solitude.”

Shiro nodded thoughtfully. “If that is what you want, sure.”

Sendak eyed him distrustfully as if to say, _Of course that is what I want. What else would I do?_ and returned with Shiro and Keith to the Castle of Lions. 

As they stepped off the pod and Keith ran ahead – after much deliberation – to get the others, Shiro turned to the distracted Sendak, whose eyes roamed over the hanger. “I-I can’t help but feel we are playing into Zarkon’s hands. He wanted me to locate the others and form Voltron, and I did.”

“But you’ve done it of your volition,” Sendak challenged, “and I do not believe you ever had a choice, Shiro. You were meant for great things. I saw that while teaching you, and I believe you will do just what Lord Zarkon fears most.” As if to keep Shiro on his toes, Sendak added, “He should have killed you when he had the chance.”

Shiro sighed. “Can’t you ever just be normal?”

Sendak laughed. “I won’t frighten your cubs, if that what you are asking.” He made a thoughtful noise as the hanger doors open and in came the Alteans, the paladins, and Matt. “I do wonder why Haggar wished to keep you alive, though,” he murmured. “It would have been in her best interest to simply kill you as well. She already knew the Red Lion would call for its paladin. She didn’t need you, necessarily, to find it.”

The thought settled uncomfortably in Shiro’s stomach, but he forced a smile to his face and welcomed Sendak to the ship. 

After Sendak retired to his new chambers – away from the paladins and Matt for now – Shiro sighed and went to see the Black Lion. He hoped the lion would understand, that he wouldn’t disagree with Shiro’s decision to bring Sendak to their side. 

The Black Lion greeted Shiro the same as always, eyes shimmering upon Shiro’s arrival, though he didn’t move his head down today to welcome his paladin aboard. Instead, it grumbled in the back of his mind, encouraging him to speak. 

Shiro debated about what to say. Did he really want to admit his fear and insecurities to the one being he wanted to impress most – well, save Allura – but then Shiro felt pressure around his waist. The lion’s spirit encircled him, urging Shiro to pet its thick mane. 

“Are you sure about this? About me? Maybe you want someone else to lead Voltron?”

The lion huffed, and all but dragged Shiro to the ground, so he could drape himself across Shiro’s lap. _Mine._

“I get it,” Shiro laughed, brushing back the long strands of soft velvet fur, “but there are so many others who are stronger than me, smarter than me…better than me.” He hated to admit it, but though he championed the games, there was no doubt there were others out there who could have escaped and found other ways to survive and defeat the Galra. He was weak, ignorant. Even with Sendak and Matt on their side, how could he hope to defeat Zarkon and reclaim the Black Bayard? 

Black raised his head, pressing their foreheads together, and let out a low, soothing rumble. 

The images came swiftly, one after another, much like how Red had invaded his mind back in that cave when they first met. Shiro was tired, like his quintessence was leaking again, but at the same time, he was overwhelmed by the sights the Black Lion showed him. 

And suddenly, Shiro was Zarkon, holding the lifeless, battered body of a boy, barely an adult, with thick, violet lifeforce leaking from a deep gash across his forehead. Blood. It was this boy’s blood, splattered across a white and red uniform. 

This was the original Red Paladin. 

A rage, unlike anything he’d ever felt – even in his moments of insanity – rushed through his veins, and a vicious, harrowing roar rent the starry sky. It came from the Black Lion – not the Red Lion, who bowed its head and with her nose, nudged the Red Paladin’s shoulder. 

The Red Paladin flopped back, lifeless. And the Red Lion’s nose came away smeared with purple blood. 

Then Shiro – Zarkon – took controls of the Black Lion, and the Black Lion’s fury matched his own. Red was their right arm. Red was the other half of a Black Paladin’s soul. They would bring the universe to its knees, make it pay for what it did to him, and Black savored the deaths that came from his blasters and jaw blade and claws. Together, Black and Zarkon annihilated worlds, decimated populations, slaughtered those responsible for killing Red – and more. Zarkon would create a universe in which what happened to Red would never happen again. 

Then – then Yellow was there, blocking his path, Blue and Green, too. 

And Zarkon ordered Black to fire upon his pride, to bring them to their knees, too. Alfor and the rest – perhaps if he destroyed Altea, Alfor would understand. He would see why Zarkon had to make the universe burn for what it to Red. 

Perhaps if Alfor lost his daughter like Zarkon lost Lotor – 

But then – Black balked, refused to fire and struggled against Zarkon’s command, but Zarkon overpowered Black, forcing him to attack. The first blast hit Blue, knocking him out of the sky. 

Yellow and Green were no match the rage of the Black Paladin, but then Red was there, soaring in front of Black. Zarkon could never fire upon the Red Lion. The shock shook Black enough to take back his own facilities, and he ejected Zarkon in what would be his first act of betrayal against his paladin. 

But there was a difference between the acts, Shiro felt now. Black had thrust Zarkon from him. Zarkon tore Shiro from Black.

An apology rippled through Shiro’s soul from Black, and the lion buried his face in Shiro’s stomach. For the first time, Shiro thought they were partners – Black relying upon him more than him upon Black. 

They had a symbiotic relationship, and Shiro continued to brush back his lion’s mane in a soothing rhythm. “I guess we’re the same, huh, Black? Broken and forced to do things we didn’t want to for Zarkon.” 

Black puffed into Shiro’s stomach, and it tickled. He couldn’t help but laugh, and Black ruthlessly did it again and again, just to elicit more laughter. 

“Black – stop!” He tried to push the lion away – but not too hard. He never wanted to be separated from Black again, and the lion agreed, settled in Shiro’s lap. 

Suddenly, a pair of paws clasped Shiro’s shoulders from behind, and a lion’s chin rested upon the top of his head. Blue, Shiro could hear her laughter. Yellow’s tail caressed his cheek, while Green tucked herself against his elbow. Red laid her head upon his Black’s back, paw upon Shiro’s folded legs. 

“Are you sure about this?” Lance asked, coming to sit across from Shiro. 

Shiro, feeling better and stronger just with Lance’s presence, took in a deep breath. “Yes. We need to find the Black Bayard, and Sendak can help us with that.”

“You don’t think he’ll kill us the moment you let your guard down?” Katie asked, snuggling next to her lion. 

“Shiro trusts him,” Hunk said as he trailed his fingers through Yellow’s fur. “That’s good enough for me.”

Keith cleared his throat as he ruffled Black’s mane. “We still need to be cautious. We can’t be certain that Sendak isn’t luring us into a trap, intentionally and not.”

Shiro held back his laughter. “You think we can find some catnip in space?”

Lance immediately peeked up. "Hey! Can I scratch behind your ears?" 

"Why does everyone want to scratch behind my ears?" Keith exasperated, throwing up his arms.

"I don't," Katie said.

Hunk scratched behind his lion's ear, and the girl began to purr and pant with obvious pleasure. "Because you probably do something like this, and it's bound to be adorable."

"I'm eighteen. I don't do adorable."

"You actually do," Shiro chuckled. "It's not quite like that but close."

Keith swung toward Shiro. "Stop, okay? I didn’t ask to be – "

"You know we only do it cuz it's cool, right?" Katie said, reaching up to trace the lines of Keith's left ear. He jumped, but it didn't deter her. "And you're still Keith, Galra, Altean, and otherwise. So let us tease you about it."

Keith glanced up at Shiro, then quickly away, and that one look said everything Shiro needed to know. 

"Keith, I told you before," Shiro said with a gentle caress of Red's head. "It doesn't matter to me what you are, only that you're here."

"But I – "

" – tried your best to warn me before I went to Kerberos, and I didn't listen. Keith, you are not the Galra Empire. Yes, you are Galra, but you’re also Altean. And you are a Paladin. We all are. But we are much more than that. 

“We may be Defenders of the Universe, but we first and foremost must protect each other. I know this cannot be what you all imagined when you saved me that night back on Earth, but – I believe we were all meant to be here. Whether this is fate or just luck – I cannot imagine being a Paladin of Voltron without any one of you. Thank you for joining me on this endeavor. I am honored not only to call you my team but also my family."

Five lions roared as one, celebrating their pride, and the Paladins each clung to their metaphysical selves. Shiro pressed his face into this lion's mane, and when Black purred, he raised his head to find Keith looking at him with amber eyes. He was purple again with soft fur and big, twitching ears. 

"Fiiiine,” he huffed and leaned over to Shiro. “But just this once, okay?"

_One Cycle Ago_

“I am not telling you something you don’t already know.”

Thace shifted his weight upon his back leg, uncrossing his arms in surprise. “Y-You are mistaken. I don’t know to what you are referring.”

Tiny hands curling in the back of Thace’s pants, Keith ducked behind his father’s legs when Haggar’s sinister yellow eyes tore into his soul. 

Thace’s hand dropped to his crown and brushed back his hair, and the familiar touch soothed though didn’t dissipate Keith’s fear. “What do you want, Haggar?” his father demanded. 

“If Lord Zarkon hasn’t felt it yet, he will soon enough.”

“Felt what?”

“The Red Lion’s essence. It is upon Commander Prorock’s ship.” 

Thace’s hand tightened upon Keith’s head, causing Keith to tug twice on his father’s pants. “Dad – ”

“You are mistaken, Haggar.”

“You know I am not, but you should be grateful I didn’t inform Lord Zarkon of its presence – or of its origin.”

Thace pushed his son even further behind his legs, but with one final glance down toward Keith, Haggar pivoted swiftly on her heel and clicked toward the exit of the small personal quarters. “You will be contacted within thirty ticks about an exploratory mission to an unconquered sector. I suggest you take command of it.”

Keith glanced up at his father, whose fear was palpable in his eyes and touch. “And why should I? Haggar, if my son – ”

“ – will not survive your mission, I regret to inform you.” Haggar stopped before the door, angled to glare over her shoulder at Thace. “There is only one place safe in the universe for him now, and it is not in the Galra Empire.”

“I do not understand your riddles, witch,” Thace spat, sounding angry and terse and causing Keith to recoil, but Haggar was not intimidated by a commander’s subordinate.

“I felt the Black Lion’s energy for quite some time.” When Thace gasped, Haggar ignored him. “It is in that sector.”

Lord Zarkon was no longer the Black Paladin?

“Find it, and your son may have a chance of survival.”

Thace’s voice was gutted, raw and sorrowful. “And if I refuse?” 

“You will not. Fate has already spoken, and your son has a destiny far greater than you can imagine. He will be the right arm of Voltron and the other half of the Black Paladin’s soul. And together, they will save the universe.” 

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and indulging me with this story. I hope you had as good a time reading it as I did writing it. And to those who commented -- you guys rock! I cannot tell you how happy all your words made me. And I hope the ending was to your liking. :) 
> 
> I will be adding at least one more chapter to "Blood Brothers" to end the series (maybe more, depending on Season 2's content), and that will take place on Earth with the entire gang, including Sam and Thace. 
> 
> I'm actually taking off work on Jan. 20 to watch Season 2, so feel free to drop me a few lines if you want to gush. I'm ptw30 on Tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you again!


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